


As Morning Shows the Day

by Jade_Dragoness



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Cute, De-Aged Spock, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Gen, Humor, M/M, Movie Night, Pre-Slash, Work In Progress, aliens are to blame, kirk forced to be a grownup, prompted fic, protective crew, unexpected plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-06-14
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-11-05 19:42:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 133,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/410289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade_Dragoness/pseuds/Jade_Dragoness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the switched version of the prompt: A de-aged fic where Spock has to take care of a kid-Kirk; preferably Kirk only listens to Spock, and freaks out when he's not around. (Or, you know, switched). Written for the st_xi_kink meme.</p><p>
  <i>[“The childhood shows the man, as morning shows the day” - John Milton] </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [[翻譯] As Morning Shows the Day](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1281004) by [robinsonola](https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinsonola/pseuds/robinsonola)
  * Translation into Русский available: [As Morning Shows the Day](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6445519) by [Eithline](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eithline/pseuds/Eithline)



> **Warning:** Dangerous  & Near Fatal Levels of Cuteness

There was something devastatingly cute about the mix of wide brown eyes, pale skin, pointed ears, and neat hair cut when packaged in a body barely over three feet tall and swimming in a blue science uniform top and dark undershirt that was entirely too big for his body.

 _Which makes it all the more disconcerting,_ thought Jim, _when you realize that the kid is Spock._

“What happened?” Jim demanded.

Sulu, who hovered around sickbay, radiating so much guilt that it practically manifested as visible rays, shot his captain a look full of dismay. 

Bones grunted and waved a medical tricorder over Spock. His frown grew deeper and it took all Jim had not to peek over his shoulder to look at the results. Last time he’d tried that, Bones had threatened to sedate him. So he directed his glare at Sulu, who winced. 

“Captain Kirk!” Sulu gulped hard enough to be audible. “I‘m not too sure what happened, sir.”

“Give it a shot anyway,” said Jim dryly.

Sulu looked over at the small Spock before he flushed and turned back to his captain. “The head of the Order of Life, the main priest-”

“-the one whose life you saved,” nodded Jim. 

“He wanted to give me a gift. I told him that Starfleet officers weren‘t allowed to accept gifts for performing services in the line of duty, and well,” Sulu shuffled his feet. “He insisted. He gave me, what I thought was a crystal sphere. Even the tricorder didn‘t seem read it as dangerous. But then it started radiating energy. Mr. Spock started to examine it. When-”

Sulu shrugged, “There was a flash of light and then Mr. Spock- was - ” He pointed at the child. “- miniaturized.”

“I am not a miniature. I am a child.”

Fascinated, Jim turned his gaze to his now, very, very young first officer. Well, at least no one could say that _he_ was too young for the captaincy anymore.

The little boy was staring up at him with a solemn expression and a wild edge to his brown eyes whivh reminded Jim of the much older Spock when Jim pushed him to the limit of his emotional control. Normally, it filled Jim with unprofessional delight to see it but in young Spock’s eyes, well… it was just disturbing. And sad.

“Yeah, I know,” Jim answered him. “He think‘s he‘s being funny.” He shot Sulu another severe look. “He‘s not.”

Sulu's expression was apologetic.

“I can‘t find anything wrong with him, Jim,” McCoy broke in. “As far as every med-scan tells me, he‘s perfectly normal. Even his bio readings are within normal parameters. Only, he‘s six years old.”

“I am 5 years, 10 months, 1 week, 12 hours and 3.45 minutes old,” corrected Spock. 

Jim grinned in delight. That was Spock, alright.

That’s when Uhura stepped through the doors and into sickbay.

Everyone, with the exception of Spock, stilled at the sight of her. 

She took one look at Spock, and went so pale she looked gray, causing Bones to grab a hypospray and step towards her. 

“No, Doctor,” she flinched and held up a hand. “I can‘t- I just-”

She spun around and headed back out the door. 

“Oh, that can‘t be good,” said Jim, baffled. 

Sulu looked even more guilty than he had before. 

Jim slapped him on the back. “Hey, this isn‘t your fault. You didn‘t ask for this to happen, and once it did you reacted quickly and got Spock back to the Enterprise and into Bones' clutches. That was good. Now, go on, you‘re off duty. I‘ll keep an eye on things here.”

Sulu nodded in gratitude to his captain and headed out of sickbay. 

Spock was watching all this so intently that Jim had no doubt that nothing was getting past him. 

“Jim,” said McCoy. “Whatever that crystal was, you need to get a hold of that priest. We need to know if this is going to be permanent or-”

Jim nodded, cutting him off. “I know, Bones.”

“Do you remember what happened to you?” Jim asked Spock bluntly.

“No sir,” said Spock.

Jim twitched in surprise at that. Little Spock sounded damn near respectful. Yes, this entire thing was quickly becoming very freaky. But he could handle it. He was the Captain.

“What was the last thing you remember?” Jim asked.

“I had just said goodbye to my mother” - Jim managed to throttle his wince that time - “and I had just entered the school. May I inquire as to how I came to be aboard this ship? From your words you know me.”

Ah, yes. Now the hard part. 

“You‘re not really five years old,” Jim said gently.

“Jim-”

Jim waved Bones to silence. He wasn’t going to start lying to his first officer, even if said first officer was nearly bite-sized and even shorter than Scotty’s friend Keenser down in Engineering. 

Those big brown eyes shone with the same intelligence, the same determination to understand the universe around him. Lies, would do nothing but break the still emerging trust that was growing between them as Captain and First Officer, let alone their developing friendship. Jim sure as hell wasn’t going to risk _that_ by lying either.

“Something happened that turned you back to a child. You‘re normally the first officer of the ship, the Enterprise. My first officer,” clarified Jim. He couldn‘t help adding, “I‘m the captain.” Yeah, six months of saying that still hadn’t worn the glow of pride off those words. He hoped they never would.

“My names is James T. Kirk,” he continued. 

This was followed by a moment a silence that stretched to a nearly unbearable limit as Spock carefully thought over Jim’s words. There was a stillness to him which made Jim silently fret. 

“Captain Kirk,” asked Spock, politely. “May I leave the medical bay? I have no injuries that require the attention of a physician.”

Bones sputtered. “Oh, wait just a minute-”

“Bones!” Jim interrupted him. “Does he need to be here?”

“Well, no. But I sure as hell would be happier where I could keep an eye on him,” scowled McCoy.

Jim grinned at him. “Stick a bio-sensor on him if you want, but Spock‘s got his own room. He‘ll only go stir-crazy if you try to keep him here.”

A bored highly intelligent child was a dangerous child. Jim knew this better than anyone.

Spock’s eyebrow went up as he watched the men bicker amicably. “Fascinating.”

Jim grinned harder, and cocked his head in Bones’ direction, who sighed and threw his hands up in exasperation. 

“I should to get my head examined for letting you talk me into this! But fine-” Bones pulled out a bio-sensor and quickly stuck it to the front of Spock’s chest. Then he picked him up under his arms and set Spock on the floor without so much as a by your leave.

Little Spock’s eyes widened in shock at being so man-handled before his face smoothed again. 

Jim had to bite his tongue to keep in the laughter. And, even with the situation being so serious, he hoped that when - not if! - they got Spock back to normal he would remember Bones doing that.

“And you!” Bones poked Jim in the chest with a hypospray. 

Jim eyed it warily and wondered when he’d gotten so close to him with it. Damn, usually he had better warning when Bones started getting hypo-happy.

“Don‘t forget that you‘re not to set foot on the planet! Find out what you can, but I still haven‘t cleared you for active duty,” growled Bones. “If you try, I _will_ sedate you. Your liver still hasn‘t recovered from that spear! It‘s still too busy healing for you to go about abusing your body.”

Jim would have cursed but there was a child present - even if it was Spock - so he restrained himself. He did give his best friend a dirty look, though.

“Fine, Bones. I‘ll send Uhura down there. Somehow, I don‘t think she‘ll have a problem grilling the priest to find out happened,” said Jim. He turned to Spock. “I‘ll show you to your room.”

Spock automatically raised his hand. Jim blinked and slowly took a hold of it. 

_Human mother_ , he reminded himself. Right. And wow, was it strange to feel that tiny dry palm against his own, knowing it was Spock holding onto his hand so tightly.

Bones was grinning at him now. Jim shot him a glare and then pointedly ignored him when he just grinned harder. He led Spock out of sickbay.

“Sir, may I inquire as to the possibility of getting other clothes?” asked Spock. He was tugging at the blue science shirt. It was so long that his toes barely peeked through the bottom of the hem. Every step he took was carefully chosen so he wouldn’t trip. There was also a faint shiver that Jim wouldn’t have caught if he hadn’t been holding Spock’s small hand.

 _Vulcans are comfortable at a higher temperature than humans,_ Jim remembered. And for this kid it was as if he’d gone from heat to cold without much warning. 

“Yeah, we can get the replicators to cough up something,” Jim agreed. He idly wondered if he could get a small science uniform for Spock. And he now understood why some parents had the urge to dress their kids up in various outfits. 

Jim wondered what else he could get Spock to wear, and how badly would Spock beat him once he was grown up again.

It would be worth it. Especially if he got pictures!

It was pretty funny walking through the ship with young Spock. Various crew members kept doing double takes, and three people had been so distracted they’d walked straight into bulkheads. 

Spock’s reactions were also fascinating. 

Jim was practically beaming with pride as those brown eyes widened and widened as they walked past various labs filled to the brim with the latest in scientific equipment. Spock stayed silent but just the way he slowed down as they passed the astro-metrics lab, told Jim how utterly cool he had to be finding everything.

He was pretty regretful when they finally got to Spock’s quarters. Jim rather liked the awe that was so obvious on Spock’s little face, even with his attempts to hide it.

Jim quickly keyed in the override code for Spock’s quarters.

As soon as they were in, he let go of Spock’s hand. The boy looked instantly more relaxed. The temperature of the room was set Vulcan high. Making Jim start to sweat in moments. He resisted the urge to get the computer to change it. 

Jim walked over to the replicators. 

“Sir?”

Jim turned back to Spock, who hadn’t moved. “This is your room, Spock. You don‘t need my permission to touch anything, if anything, I should be asking you.”

That earned him a nod, and a lessening of tension. 

Jim smiled. He had to admit that it was interesting being in Spock’s room. He had only been inside it a handful of times, and it hadn’t ceased being intriguing. For a guy that was so very buttoned down, his quarters were surprisingly ornate. There were quite a few decorations, not just Vulcan stuff either. Vulcan tapestries hung next to a painting of an ocean. Small statues of Vulcan figures stood next to carvings of Earth animals.

Spock’s room was as much a representation of his dual biology as his DNA. Jim tore his attention away from his inspection of the room and headed over to the replicator.

It just took a moment to get the replicator to spit out a resized uniform for Spock. It also helped that Spock knew his measurements and plugging that data into the computer took little effort. He also made it turn out a small pair of boots. It wouldn’t do to have his first officer run around with bare feet.

It was disconcerting to notice that both shoes fit in one hand.

Jim handed Spock the clothes and wandered over to the com-unit as Spock figured out how to get himself into them. Jim drew the line at helping Spock get dressed. If he had to, he’ll call for help from a yeoman. Rand had to be around somewhere. 

He keyed in his code and got in contact with Uhura. 

“Captain Kirk,” she said, answering the com call after a minute.

Jim looked her over. Her eyes were red and there was a unhappy firmness to her mouth. 

“Lieutenant,” he said gently. “I want you, and a security officer to head down to the planet. You are to question the priest and see if you can‘t find out what exactly he did to Spock. The universal translator hasn‘t exactly been perfect with these people and I want you to be there to catch any mistakes.”

Her expression was stiff, but she nodded in acquiescence. 

“I want to give Sulu a chance to get some sleep,” Jim continued. “He‘s been down on the planet for nearly twenty-four hours, but if you are having any difficulty getting answers, you‘re authorized to order him down there. He‘s got more pull with the priest that’s responsible for changing Spock, than the rest of us.”

“Yes, captain. I‘ll get answers,” she said, fiercely. 

Jim lifted his hand to cut off the call but he stopped half-way there. “Uhura, are you alright?”

“I‘m fine, sir,” she said, raising her chin.

Jim gave her a look. “Really? Because that scene in the med-bay isn‘t what I would call ‘fine’.”

Uhura dropped her eyes. 

Jim watched her carefully, and rubbed his mouth. He decided to use one of the best weapons in his arsenal. That one he didn’t dare use unless the situation was serious. 

“Nyota,” Jim said quietly.

Uhura’s lovely brown eyes snapped back to his. Then she shivered. “Captain… Jim… You know that as the Communications Officer, I have access to a lot of the communications traffic being sent along various frequencies to Starfleet Command.”

“Yeah, that‘s kind of why the job is called Communications Officer,” said Jim, unable to help himself. 

Uhura ignored his smartass remark. 

“I also get a lot of reports from other starships. And Jim… every single time that a member of Starfleet has been changed or altered, they‘ve never been able to get them back 100 percent.”

“What? Never?” That didn’t sound right. Hell, that didn’t sound reassuring.

“Never,” she said grimly.

Jim sat back. Well, that explained Uhura’s reaction in sickbay. 

Seeing Spock like that. Damn. It would be a like seeing him dead. Because the Spock she knew - the grown up Spock - was gone. 

He involuntarily looked back to Spock, where the little boy was staring up at the replicator, his face intent. He looked like he was thinking of replicating something, or maybe even trying to figure out the best way to take the machine apart.

And Jim couldn’t help but smile. 

“That may be true of other ships, Uhura, but we are the Enterprise. We will get Spock back to normal. I‘m not giving up.” he said confidently. He grinned harder, “No such thing as a no-win scenario remember.”

Uhura’s mouth quirked with a small smile. 

“Now Lieutenant, get down there and kick ass,” he said cheerfully. 

“Yes, Captain.”

Satisfied that he’d done what he could he waved her off and turned back to Spock.

The boy had dressed himself in the science blue uniform sometime during Jim’s conversation with Uhura and he was now pressing his hands to the replicator controls.

“Are you hungry?” asked Jim, after watching him for several minutes too fascinated with what Spock was doing to interrupt his concentration.

Spock nearly jumped, spinning to face Jim. His eyes widening. Jim kept his body still and unthreatening. 

“No, sir. I do not currently require sustenance,” Spock said. 

“You can call me Jim, you know,” said Jim.

“Yes, sir,” said Spock. 

Jim shook his head in amusement and exasperation. _Stubborn Vulcan kid. He’s just as bad as the grown up version._

“So, were you wondering how the replicator works?” asked Jim. 

Spock nodded, “The replicator at home has a lesser capacity for replication. I was curious as to the upgrades to the technology.”

“Well,” Jim smiled and sat on the deck so he was closer to eye-level with him. “I know a few things about replicators. What do you want to know?”  
*-*-*-*

They spent a good three hours taking not only the replicator apart, but also the com-unit and a couple other things. 

That’s how McCoy found them. Both of them sprawled on the their backs, their head tucked into a panel of communications circuits that led into a bulkhead with only their lower bodies visible to the rest of the room. Spock only visible from the waist down, while Jim was visible from the chest down.

“And see this line of circuitry? It helps to coordinate various signals from all parts of the ship-”

“Jim!” said McCoy, scowling with frustration. His hands on his hips. He had to resist the urge to kick at Jim’s feet.

Jim’s body jerked and a low thud answered McCoy. 

“Ow,” Jim pulled himself out of the circuit panel, rubbing his forehead. He glared at McCoy. “Bones! Can‘t you knock?”

“I did,” McCoy said dryly. “Someone took apart the ringer. I also tried the com-unit, but for some reason the signal won‘t go through.” He gave the open circuitry of the com a look then raised his eyebrow at Jim.

Jim blinked then grinned. “Oh, right.”

Spock popped up next to him, his hair is disarray. While his face was still, his eyes were practically glowing with delight. The bio-sensor on his chest was humming away its lights blinking green and blue. 

McCoy couldn’t help but smile as he took in the small Vulcan wearing a smaller version of his usual uniform. It even had the golden Commander stripes on the arm.

He opened his medical tricorder and scanned Spock.

“The bio-sensor went strange a few minutes ago,” McCoy said. 

Jim frowned, concern in his eyes. “What do you mean ‘strange’?” He got to his feet and hovered next to Spock. He looked down at the kid, his brows knotting. 

“I don‘t rightly know,” murmured McCoy. “Whatever it was, it vanished nearly as fast as it happened.”

His medical tricorder beeped as it finished it’s scan. McCoy looked over the reading and his eyebrows went up in surprise. “Huh.”

“Bones…” said Jim, warningly. 

“Oh, the kid is perfectly fine, Jim,” grumbled McCoy. “It‘s just - I don‘t know what did this, but he‘s jumped up in age by a few months.”

Jim stared down a Spock who stared back. 

“How old are you now, Spock?” Jim asked.

“6 years, 2 months, 1 week, 2 days and 3.58 hours old, sir,” answered Spock promptly. 

Jim and McCoy exchanged looks. 

“He‘s getting older. How?” asked Jim. “We‘ve been in this room the entire time. We haven‘t even had anything to eat yet.”

“I don‘t know,” said McCoy, looking frustrated. “I wish I could tell you that the scans say he’s getting older, faster but they’re not. They show that he’s still aging at the normal rate that we all do. There’s no reason his age should have shot up like that.”

“Do you think there‘s a chance that whatever that crystal thing did will just wear off?” asked Jim. 

“What part of I don‘t know, didn‘t you understand?” scowled McCoy. “But I want Spock down in the medical bay so that I can run him through more tests. I obviously missed something.”

Little Spock looked dismayed for a split second before the expression was quickly masked. He turned his face up to Jim so that his eyes looked huge and pleading as he gazed up at Jim. 

_Aw, don’t pull out those puppy dog eyes, kid,_ thought Jim. That just wasn’t fair. He didn’t have any kind of defense against it. He could practically feel his emotional defenses crumbling before that look. Abruptly, Jim felt grateful that grown-up Spock has never turned such an expression on him, then Spock would have no problem talking him out of his crazier plans.

“Okay, we‘ll go down to med-bay,” agreed Jim. “But not for long! We‘ve still got to eat dinner.”

McCoy grumbled some more but agreed.

And as they stepped out of Spock’s quarters, Spock once again raised his hand out to Jim, who held it gently, giving it a reassuring squeeze as they followed McCoy.

Whatever was going on, they would find out.  
*-*-*-*

They ended up being stuck in sickbay for entirely too long while McCoy had ran every test he could think up on Spock. He also press-ganged every free doctor and nurse into helping run scans, blood work and various other medical things that Jim had quickly lost interest in. Jim was even certain that Bones had tested Spock for Tholian Fever which neither Vulcans or humans could get. Twice.

And from the darkening looks being aimed at McCoy by the medical staff as he made them run redundant tests, Jim suspected that Bones was about to face his first ever mutiny as the Chief Medical Officer. 

_Hell, if Bones doesn’t let us go soon, I’ll help lead the way._ Jim thought grumpily. His stomach had been clamoring for food for nearly half an hour and there was no way he was going to use the sickbay’s food replicators. For some crazy reason, the food came out tasting like all hospital food did in any hospital on any world. Bland, tasteless and with the texture of wet cardboard.

Some things were just universal. Unfortunately.

“Bones, now what are you doing?” asked Jim, eyeing his friend warily as McCoy got close and scanned him. 

“Figured since I had you here, I might as well check up on you too,” said McCoy, his eyes firmly on the readouts. 

Jim glared. “Oh, now you‘re just trying to find excuses to keep us here. Just admit that you haven‘t found anything and let us escape before I‘m forced to launch a prison break.”

Jim refused to admit that his voice was more than a little whiny. Captains did not whine.

Bones ignored his complaints, talking right over him. “Have you been feeling any a pain?”

“No,” Jim lied. He’d been getting small twinges in his side whenever he twisted too quickly, or leaned against something before remembering he was suppose to keep pressure off his liver.

Bones grunted at him and from the look on his face he obviously didn’t believe him. He demanded, “And tell me again, why you thought it was a good idea to step in front of that spear?” 

Jim grimaced at him. “Come on, Bones. You know why.”

“Yeah, yeah. Couldn‘t let the green-blooded hobgoblin get hurt,” McCoy rolled his eyes. “I still say he‘s tougher than you and could’ve taken it.”

“No,” Jim said grimly. “Not even he would have been fine if he‘d been hit where they were aiming.” Jim rubbed at his right side as a flicker of pain lanced through him. And he was glad - for the millionth time - that he made it a point of learning something of Vulcan physiology, especially where their hearts were located.

“It nearly killed you too,” said McCoy, but he also sighed with defeat and dropped it.

Jim looked over to where Spock was sitting on the bio-bed. His feet neatly tucked together and his back straight. Boredom was plain on his small face, though Jim suspected that wasn’t too obvious to anyone else.

Nurse Chapel was talking to him, trying to distract him with a toy and getting nowhere fast.

Jim rolled his eyes. As if Spock would find anything entertaining about a soft plush bear.

A soft hiss and a flash-pop of pain at his neck made Jim jerk. 

“Ow! Bones!” Jim yelped. “What the hell?!”

“For the pain,” said McCoy.

“What pain? There was no pain!” growled Jim. 

“Yeah right. You keep forgetting that I _know_ you and I can tell when you lie,” said McCoy with a scowl. 

Jim sulked. He was certain there was a benefit to having his best friend as his doctor, but he sure as hell couldn’t think of one right now. He rubbed his neck and glared.

“Keptin Kirk! Bridge to Keptin Kirk.”

Jim leapt away from Bones in relief and headed over to the nearest com-unit.

“Captain Kirk, here,” he said. 

Chekov’s young face peered at him. “Keptin! You wanted to be informed when Lieutenant Uhura returned from the planet Cromtic.”

Jim straightened. Now they were getting somewhere. “She‘s back? Perfect.”

“She wanted me to tell you,” continued Chekov. “That she brought the priest up to the Enterprise.”

Jim blinked. “What? Why?”

“She said she would need access to the computer for a more accurate translation,” answered Chekov. 

“Where is she now?” asked Jim, frowning.

“She is in Xenoliguistic Lab 3,” said Chekov, after checking his readouts. 

“Okay, tell her I‘m on my way. Kirk out,” said Jim. He was about to sign off when-

“Keptin!”

“Yeah, Chekov?”

“Mr. Spock. How is he, sir?” There was so much concern in Chekov’s eyes and face that Jim couldn’t help but smile. 

“He‘s fine, just rather on the small side. We‘ll get him back to normal before long,” Jim said confidently.

“Yes, Keptin,” said Chekov, with relief.

“Kirk out,” Jim said again. The view screen went black.

Jim looked over to Spock who was still being talked to by a frustrated looking Nurse Chapel while the boy looked blank. Bones was also at his side waving his tricorder, running yet another scan. And knowing Bones, Spock would be forced to endure even more tests for a least another hour. More than long enough for Jim to duck out to see what Uhura was doing.

He sneaked out med-bay and all but ran to the nearest turbolift. 

Bones said he wasn’t allowed to go down to the planet which was the only reason he hadn’t been the one to question the priest about what the hell he’d done to Spock, but now the guy was here. There was nothing stopping Jim from asking his questions. Jim was just sorry that the Cromtician people were friendly and had given them no cause to worry, well other than their tendency to youthify his officers. He would have liked to been badass captain for this, instead of diplomatic captain. 

He usually left the sweet-talking to people who had the patience for it. Like Uhura or Spock. Which was another reason for him to get Spock - older, first officer version - back. Even if he was getting a huge kick out of the child version. Still, Jim rather missed arguing with his first officer and being certain that he whatever he said, no matter how smartassed, Spock would dish it right back.

Jim nearly bounced into the lab driven by his eagerness. There he found Uhura talking softly with the Cromtician priest. 

The Cromticians looked a lot like large bipedal ant-eaters with shorter snouts, thick cream colored fur, and three red antennae that bifurcated at the tip on top of their heads. 

The priest was thinner than the usual Cromtician, and his antennae were paler. Jim suspected it put his age at a much higher scale than any other Cromtician he had seen. 

“Captain Kirk,” Uhura said with a nod. “Perfect timing. I was just about to run the universal translation with its new linguistic subroutine.”

“Go on then,” said Jim. 

“Priest Kret, this is the Captain Kirk of the Enterprise,” she said. “Captain Kirk, this is High Priest-Engineer Kret of the Way.”

 _Priest-Engineer? That was different. The Way? Huh, I thought it was the Temple of Life._ Clearly, Uhura had caught something being mistranslated while down on the planet.

They exchanged bows of greetings. 

“I find I must apologize for my actions,” said Kret, his voice deep and pleasant. His brown eyes were gentle and wise. “I had intended to give a gift to the human named Lieutenant Hikaru Sulu. I had not considered that the Cub Sphere would activate so early upon the inspection of the one named Commander Spock.”

Jim watched with interest as his antennae waved, curved and flickered as Kret spoke.

“Can you repeat what you told me about how we can restore Commander Spock back to his usual age,” said Uhura, her eyes glittering with excitement. 

Jim held in his breath.

“Unrestrained happiness is the gift of childhood. The Cub Sphere helps regain this joy,” said Kret, his voice coming out in a chant.

Jim’s eyebrows went up. Uhura frowned and turned to give the computer a poke, obviously not pleased about something.

“And the gift restores the cub to age,” continued Kret. 

Jim frowned. Then his eyes widened as he worked it out. “Making Spock happy will make him get older?!”

Kret’s antennae all waved at once in clear agreement. 

Jim pressed his palms to his eyes, feeling incredulous. He dropped it after a moment and stared right into the priest’s kind eyes. 

“I’m guessing that your people haven‘t had that much contact with Vulcans,” Jim said dryly.

“Surely, giving a cub happiness is not a difficult task?” Kret asked, his antennae curling and twisting. 

“A normal kid? Yeah,” said Jim. “It would be easy, more than easy. But Spock?”

Jim and Uhura exchanged looks. 

“Lets just say that Vulcans have a certain reputation that Spock often tries to outdo,” Jim continued. But at least what the priest had said about the cure sounded true. It would explain why Spock had that sudden age jump. And why Bones’ scans failed to find a reason for it. There was no way that Spock would be happy at all while in the medical bay being poked and prodded by strangers. 

Of course, it also brought up the interesting fact that Spock had been feeling happy while he’d been with him. This fact made Jim rather smug.

“I do not understand,” said Kret, confused. 

“The captain is merely pointing out an unexpected difficulty in restoring Commander Spock to his usual age,” explained Uhura. “Vulcans are a species whose way of life involves the control of emotions and suppression of all emotional expression. This training begins at a very young age.”

Kret’s antennae flattened against his skull. “That seems to be a rather restrictive and oppressive Way.”

Jim started saying, “Yes. That‘s actually an understa-”

“Captain Kirk!” He was cut off by the com. “Jim! Damn it! Answer.”

Frowning, Jim answered. “Bones, what the hell?” He could hear crashing noises coming through the com. Bones was scowling and looking more murderous than usual.

“Where in blazes did you go?” McCoy snapped. “Never mind. Get you ass back down to sickbay, right now!”

A voice howled, “No!” 

Jim frowned at that. He was almost certain it had been Spock. 

“I‘ll be right there,” he said quickly. He signed off and turned toward Uhura. “Keep finding out what you can.”

And he ran out the door. 

By the time he made it to the medical bay, Jim had a stitch in his side that had nothing to do with being out of shape. Fortunately, whatever Bones had stuck him with was helping and the pain stayed mild enough that he ignored it as he barreled through the parting doors of the med-bay. He skidded to a stop.

Chaos had been unleashed. 

Jim’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of various medical staff taking cover behind bio-beds, desks, or whatever was available. Bones was swearing. And Spock-!

Oh, it was glorious. Spock was throwing a temper tantrum to end all temper tantrums. Throwing medical tricorders, hyposprays, whatever he could get his hands on. All while glaring and shouting. 

“No! No more scans! No more tests! I want to go home! I want my mother!”

 _Oh shit!_ Jim winced. He’d been afraid of this.

Something broke with a delicate sounding crash that was bound to have been complicated and vital. McCoy’s cursing got louder. 

So Jim did something he’d been desperately wanting to do since that bar fight in Riverside that had changed the path of his entire life. The one that had led him to this moment. He put his fingers to his mouth and whistled. Loudly.

Everyone froze and turned towards him, stiffening to attention.

Even Spock got quiet and still.

Jim very carefully kept from grinning at the sudden ‘Oh fuck!’ expression on everyone’s face. Being captain never got old.

“I know that you people can‘t live without me,” Jim said, planting his hands on his hips. “But just because I leave for a moment is no reason to start off a war.” He gave everyone a mock-disappointed look.

Jim could see McCoy rolling his eyes. He shifted his gaze to Spock who was looking stricken and struggling to hide it. He instantly dropped the humor.

“Hey, Spock,” Jim said gently, slowly walking closer to the young boy. “Why don‘t you let me spring you from here? I‘m starving and could use some company for dinner.”

“Yes, sir,” Spock nodded. He then bit his lower lip and Jim could see that there was a wet sheen to his eyes that made them look ever bigger than usual. 

Jim held out his hand this time, and after a moment Spock slowly took it.


	2. Chapter 2

Bones caught Jim’s eye and held up a hypospray, silently indicating Spock.

 _God, why is Bones’ answer to everything to hit it with a hypospray?_ Jim shook his head at him. He’d update Bones about what he’d found out from the Cromtician priest later on. Away from medical equipment.

“I wish to speak with my mother,” said Spock, his voice trembling. The hand holding Jim’s grew tighter. Desperate. 

Jim guessed that Spock was freaking the fuck out right now. That he just had too much hitting him all at once. He felt rather guilty for leaving Spock behind without so much as a warning. The kid had seemed to like him, had gotten to know him and even trusted him. Then Jim had gone and vanished on him. No wonder he’d trashed the medical bay and all while shouting that he wanted his mom.

Jim led them out and onto a turbolift before he answered Spock. 

“I know that you miss her. I know you love her and I‘m sorry she‘s not here,” Jim said softly. As he said these words Jim realized that he’d never actually said them aloud to Spock before today, though he had thought them. He never did give him that apology that he should have. If Spock didn’t remember this conversation, Jim made a mental note to repeat those words to him again. Jim needed Spock to know that he meant them.

Right now though, he just hoped that Spock didn‘t ask too many questions about his mother‘s location. Jim would rather gnaw off his arm than tell this small Spock that his mother was dead. That she had had died on Vulcan with six billion of his people. Give him an armada of pissed off Klingons any day.

Spock didn’t say anything. His head was dropped forward, hiding his face from Jim’s gaze. That rather worried him.

“I‘m sorry I just left like that,” Jim continued, giving Spock’s hand a squeeze. He hoped he would look up. 

Spock didn’t. 

“I could say that I‘m captain I‘m very busy, but honestly, I didn‘t think. I was an asshole and I‘m very sorry I left you without first telling you where I was going.”

Spock’s head jerked up at this. Jim caught a flicker of shock in his eyes. 

_Guess Spock isn’t used to adults admitting they’re fallible. Or assholes._

“I won‘t do that again,” Jim promised, his voice serious. “I give you my word as captain that I won‘t leave you alone ever again.” And the promise felt serious in a way Jim hadn’t expected until he said it. As if the words were, not just for this child Spock, but also intended for the grown up version. “Can you believe me?”

“Yes, sir,” said Spock, in a whisper.

Jim let out a silent sigh of relief. 

Then the lift doors opened as they arrived at the right deck. Jim lead them out, heading for the mess hall.

Jim smiled down at Spock. “So, why what do you want to eat? The ship has some pretty good food replicators. What‘s your favorite food?”

“It is illogical to label nutritional sustenance as being preferable to another,” Spock said primly. The hand holding Jim’s loosened to a more natural grip.

Jim held back a snort of amusement.

“Alright, how about you let me pick?” asked Jim. 

That got him a nod of agreement and they walked through the opened double door leading into the mess hall. 

As soon as they walked in, Jim realized that it probably would have been better to have eaten in the privacy of Spock’s quarters or even Jim‘s own. Because everyone there stopped eating and stared at the two of them. Only Jim’s very pointed glare made the crew members look away and get back to eating their foods but the damage had been done. Spock was tense again. As if he expected to be attacked at any moment.

“I know you‘re a vegetarian. So,” Jim asked, leading Spock over to an empty table, “how do you feel about tofu burgers?” 

“I do not have a preference,” Spock said.

Jim dropped off Spock at the table, first making sure to adjust the chair so that Spock could actually reach the top before heading over to the food replicators to plug in their orders.

After he came back with the food, and setting the trays on the table top, Jim realized that he probably should have chosen a kid-sized meal for Spock. The tofu burger was about the size of the kid’s head. That wasn’t even counting the fries and soda that Jim had added to the tray. There was no way in hell he was going to be able to finish it off. Next time, Jim reminded himself, he‘d do better.

“Here you go,” said Jim, as he sat across from Spock.

Spock gave the burger a dubious look. 

“May I inquire as to the protocol involved in consuming this item?” Spock asked, his angled brows scrunching together in mild puzzlement. 

“Well, you pick it up with your hands and take a bite out of it,” answered Jim. 

At ‘hands’ Spock shot him such a scandalized look that Jim couldn’t help but laugh. 

“That is unsanitary,” said Spock, his tiny nose wrinkling just a little bit.

When he finally choked off the chuckles, Jim got up to get him a fork and knife. Spock took them with a thank you and proceeded to take the burger apart like it was machine. 

Jim watched in fascination as Spock separated the bun, lettuce, tomato, onions rings, patty, and cheese. He gave each ingredient a few minutes scrutiny before moving on to the next. It wasn’t until he had disassembled the entire thing that he appeared satisfied with it. Then Spock carefully put it back together in the original order all the ingredients had first been on the burger. Jim would have sworn that they were even in their original positions. If only he’d taken note before Spock started playing with his food, then Jim would have been able to say so for sure. 

It was until Spock cut up a piece a burger and bit into it cautiously that Jim remembered he had his own meal to eat. He’d completely forgotten in light of the dinner entertainment provided by Spock. He picked up his own fork and knife and began cutting into his steak with hungry zeal. He’d only been cleared to eat whatever he wanted by Bones yesterday. So, he was eager to eat something with protein as he had gotten quite sick and tried of oatmeal.

The small noise that Spock made as Jim took a bite made him stop quickly chewing.

Spock looked - well, for a lack of a better word - green around the gills. 

He followed Spock’s gaze and with a start realized that he was staring at Jim’s meal. It took him a moment before he realized that Spock was reacting to Jim’s steak, which, while not rare enough that it practically moved, was still medium rare. That was rare enough for it to bleed as Jim had cut into it. And more than enough to trigger Spock’s reaction. 

Jim stared down at his tasty meal and sighed. He got up, threw the steak into the recycler and ordered his own tofu burger. 

By the time he got back to the table, Spock’s eyes were doing that pleased gleaming thing that Jim noted he did whenever something had pleasantly surprised him. Spock had the same look even as an adult. A look that Jim had quickly learned those first few weeks as the captain of the Enterprise when he proved that he actually knew what he was doing as the one in charge.

Spock went back to eating his burger, his second bite was more enthusiastic. Jim bite into his own burger, not bother with a fork and knife. He was grateful that he didn’t have a problem with tofu.

Jim’s gaze flickered over to the crew, wondering how they were taking all this in. He was very happy to see that the crew had not only caught his desire to be left alone with Spock, but they were also making sure that any newcomers to the mess were being intercepted, and updated on Jim’s unspoken order, so that Spock and he could enjoy their meal in peace. 

_Damn, I have the **best** crew in Starfleet_ , Jim thought, not for the first time.

Of course, it didn’t last too long, because the duties of a captain didn’t let up even when said captain was playing at acting parental guardian for his very small first officer.

When Yeoman Janice Rand walked through the mess hall door, her shoulders were set back, her blonde hair was brushed into its pixie cut style and her expression was set on ‘I will kick your ass’. A look that Jim was suspiciously certain she’d learned from Uhura.

It was pretty much the usual expression that Jim was used to seeing on his personal assistant. The petite yeoman was the only one - other than Spock - whose duty involved chasing him down and making sure he was finishing his paperwork. And considering how much Jim hated reading all the reports filled by different departments as well as such mundane things as requisition forms, duty rosters and other tedious but necessary paperwork needed to run a ship the size of the Enterprise? It was nothing short of heroic how Rand would face the task of making him sign off on everything. Every single day.

Well, except on those days he was in medical, recovering from a wound or stuck on a planet for some reason. Reasons that usually involved blood, screaming and explosions.

There were times when Jim seriously thought that Starfleet, and he, owed her a medal for her dedication. Though he was rather afraid to encourage her. She was tenacious enough as it was.

“Yeoman,” Jim greeted her warily. 

“Captain,” she said. She promptly handed him her PADD. “With the Commander out of commission, Dr. McCoy told me that he has released you for light duties. So, I need these signed.”

_Damn, there went that excuse._

Jim briefly looked over to Spock, wondering if he could get him to sign off on these things since he hadn’t yet informed Starfleet of Spock’s change in status. Then he shook his head at himself. There was no reason to act cruel to the kid.

He touched open the screen that held the list of reports and winced to see that they numbered into the forties. “This is going to take a while, yeoman,” he sighed. “Why don‘t you get something for yourself while you wait. You can even stick around to make sure I get it done.”

“Aye, sir,” she said. “I’ll be right over there.” Her blue eyes flickered to Spock and there was an nearly imperceptible softening in her manner. She nodded at them, “By your leave, Commander. Captain.”

Spock’s brown eyes were wide again, staring after Rand. To Jim it was clear that he was surprised by the show of respect. 

“I did tell you that you’re the first officer, didn‘t I?” Jim said smiling. “I know that it‘s hard to tell, but the whole crew likes and respects you.”

Spock’s eyes got that delighted and astonished look again. 

On a hunch, Jim asked, “Spock, how old are you now?”

“I am 6 years, 2 months, 1 weeks, 5 days and 6.37 hours old, sir,” said Spock, before lifting the fork to chew on his burger.

 _He’s gained 3 days,_ Jim thought. He wondered if the mount of happiness that Spock felt directly correlated with how much age he gained. 

If it did, then the greater the happiness the larger the age jump. The smaller the happiness, the smaller the jump. Jim also wondered if the duration of how long Spock felt happy had any affect on the age increase. That was just another one of those questions he’d have to pose to High Priest-Engineer Kret either next time he saw him or more specifically through Uhura, since Kret had returned to the planet.

It would be good to have some sort of idea of the time window involved to get Spock back to normal. The Enterprise had only five more days left in the Cromtician system. Five more days of negotiating for that starbase that Starfleet wanted, then they were off to chart a nebula. A nebula that was too close to the Romulan Neutral Zone for comfort. And definitely too close to have the Enterprise without its first officer and captain at 100 percent.

Well, he’d cross that bridge once he got to it. All he could do right now is focus on Spock. 

A cleared throat brought him out of his thoughts and Jim looked over at Yeoman Rand who was looking at the PADD in his hands and glaring. 

Right! Focus on Spock and get the paperwork done before Rand did terrible things to him. Jim bent his head, using one hand to eat his dinner and the other to scroll and sign reports.

By the time that Jim pulled himself out of the mind numbing paperwork, not only had he long since finished his burger but he was surprised to see that a good chunk of the mess hall had cleared out, with the sole exception of Rand who was still waiting for the PADD. Even more surprising to Jim, he saw that Spock had fallen asleep at some point and was now pillowing his head on his arms, his face relaxed, and a soft nearly inaudible sigh escaping his parted lips with every exhale.

Grinning at the adorable sight, Jim passed the completed PADD over to Rand. She took it with a nod.

Jim whispered, “Yeoman, have a midshipman from Maintenance send an extra bed to Mr. Spock‘s quarters. Also, see if they can fix the com-unit while they’re in there. It‘s kind of…err… broken.”

Rand blinked in surprise before nodding. “Yes, sir,” she whispered back, shooting one final glance at sleeping Spock before walking away.

Spock didn’t so much at twitch at their voices. Jim gently pulled away the trays from the table. He saw that Spock hadn’t even made it half-way through the burger and it looked like he hadn’t even touched the soda. Surprisingly, all the fries were gone. For future meals, Jim would have to remember that Spock liked them.

Jim had just put both trays into the recycler when Bones walked in. 

“Jim, good. I was hoping you were still here,” McCoy said, his voice loud in the silent mess.

“Shhhh!” Jim hissed. He whispered, “The kid‘s asleep. I don‘t want to wake him up.”

Bones peered over at the table where Spock was sleeping and grinned. “So, he finally crashed. It‘s about time.”

“You knew he‘d do that?” 

“I was actually hoping he‘d do it in sickbay,” McCoy admitted. “I just didn‘t think he‘d trash it first.”

“Is that why you took forever?” Jim demanded, keeping his voice low. “I was so close to grabbing him and running out.”

“As if I wouldn‘t be able to find you again,” McCoy said smugly. “Anyway, those tests were perfectly legitimate, I wasn’t just wasting time with them.”

“Really? Even with the check to see if he had Tholian Fever?” Jim asked dryly. 

McCoy flushed, “Alright, so I may have gotten a little carried away.”

“Just a little,” Jim agreed sarcastically. He shook his head in fond exasperation. That was Bones for you. “So, you want to tell me what you found out about the littlest commander in the Fleet?”

“Only if you tell me what you found out from the priest,” said McCoy. At Jim‘s surprised expression, he explained how the rumor mill was already churning out stories about the Cromtician‘s visit to the ship. 

“You’ve got a deal,” Jim agreed. 

They ended up sitting in the next table nearest to the one where Spock was still sleeping. Far enough so that their low voices shouldn’t disturb him but close enough to react quickly if he needed them. McCoy explained his worries about the pressures Spock’s body would face as it grew older much faster than it should. And how he really wanted to keep Spock in sickbay so he could run continuous scans on him, just in case something cropped up.

“Do you really think that‘s a possibility?” Jim asked, now worried himself. 

“I don‘t know, Jim. I wish I had a clue about the technology that was used on him. So far, he’s fine. His body isn‘t showing any stress, his muscles, bones and nervous system are all clear,” said McCoy. He rubbed his face. “Now tell me what you know.”

Jim told Bones everything he’d learned from Kret. 

“ _That_ is different,” said McCoy, with a raised eyebrow. 

“Tell me about it,” Jim sighed. “Can you imagine anything stranger? Trying to make a Vulcan, and not just any Vulcan - but Spock of all people - feel happy. Fortunately, the kid is easier to please than the grownup version. He‘s jumped three days since his tantrum.”

“Yeah, I know. I saw the change from the bio-sensor. Almost didn‘t catch it too. It helped that I had the previous age jump already in the computer to use as a comparison,” said McCoy, his voice distracted. “You know, Jim. It will probably get tougher to get Spock happy as he gets older. And I don‘t just mean because Spock is approaching puberty.”

They both took a moment to imagine that and in unison shuddered with horror. 

McCoy looked sickened before he shook it off and continued, “The neural scans of his brain showed that he‘s getting his memory back. The original memory of living that time. And with it will come back all that Vulcan training on emotional suppression. The older he gets, the more training he‘ll have, the harder it will be to trigger his emotions.”

“Damn, I didn‘t think of that,” Jim admitted. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. 

“I have _got_ to know how that Cub Sphere thing works. Because now I‘m wondering if it’s triggered by the production of serotonin. Or maybe even the levels of tryptophan in the body. Or if its something altogether different,” McCoy said, frustrated.

“You think it‘ll make a difference?” asked Jim.

“If it‘s based on something the body produces, then yeah. Vulcans control their own bodies to a degree that’s just plain impossible in a human. You‘ve seen Spock go into a healing trance to treat himself. That kind of thing only comes from tight control of the nervous system, endocrine system, etc. There‘s no way that it will be easy to get Spock to release that control just to cheer him up.”

“Double damn,” groaned Jim.

“Of course, if is based on serotonin, I can manufacture some of it to give to Spock to jump up his age again,” said McCoy, thoughtfully. He rubbed his chin as he turned over the idea in his head.

“You want to give Spock happy pills?” asked Jim, incredulous.

“Not pills, a quick hypo ought to do it,” answered McCoy. Jim gave him an exasperated look but Bones just grinned. 

“Why don‘t we hold up on drugging him until the last resort,” said Jim. “We still got a few days before the situation gets urgent enough to try such desperate measures.”

McCoy agreed. “Assuming of course, that‘s how it works. If it isn‘t something biochemical then I‘m plain out of ideas and out of my area of expertise.”

“Good point,” Jim said. “I‘ll get a hold of Scotty, and see if he has any ideas to throw into the pot. Kret is a High Priest-Engineer. Scotty‘s practically holds the exact same title. I‘m sure he‘ll be able to help, somehow. When Sulu goes on duty in the morning, I‘ll send you, him and Scotty down to the planet with Uhura to ask the priest those questions.”

McCoy grimaced at the idea. He grumbled, “Fine. But I‘m not doing this because I like the pointy-eared bastard.”

Jim smirked at him. “Give it up, Bones. You like arguing with him, I know you do. Don‘t try to tell me any different.”

“Not after what he did to my medical bay,” McCoy denied hotly. 

Jim dismissed this protest with a wave of his hand, “Please, I wrecked it worse when I was high on those flowers from Getty V. You still like me.”

McCoy eyed him, “I beg to differ. I haven‘t forgiven you for that either. You still owe me a bottle of Kentucky Bourbon.”

Jim grinned wider. “Just think how much worse it would have been if it had been _me_ who got turned into a kid. I probably would have blown a hole in the hull by now.”

McCoy froze, his eyes went glassy with a mix of horror and nausea. Then he shook his head and glared hotly at Jim. “Thank you so much for that,” McCoy snarled. “Goddamnit! Now, I‘m going to have nightmares for weeks.”

“Speaking of dreams,” Jim said brightly. “I‘ve got to get Spock off to bed, can‘t have the first officer spending the night sleeping away in the mess hall, now can we?”

McCoy sighed and grabbed Jim before he made it a step. “Now, what did I tell you about exerting yourself?”

“But, Bones- he‘s six. He can’t hardly be more than fifty pounds,” argued Jim.

“He‘s a Vulcan, and heavier than he looks, remember. I‘m carrying him,” McCoy said firmly, standing up and heading for Spock. 

Jim was torn between protesting and encouraging this idea. He kind of desperately wanted to see Bones carrying Spock around if only for the hilarity of the picture they‘d make. Though, he was more than a little leery of Spock’s reaction if he woke up. Jim rather doubted that Bones was one of Spock’s favorite people right now.

McCoy was already gently picking up Spock before Jim could articulate any of his arguments against the idea. He did it pretty expertly, with minimum of movements, tucking Spock up against his body. He made sure that Spock’s head was cradled against his shoulder, and that his legs and arms dangled comfortably instead of being squashed.

It reminded Jim, that - out of all the senior officers - Bones had actual experience with raising a child of his own and knew what he was doing. Unlike himself, who was pretty much winging it. Jim had a feeling he would end up using Bones for more than medical advice in the future. 

Once he was settled, Spock made a small grumble, low and sleepy. He shifted until he was tucking his head right under McCoy’s chin. He curled a hand to hold tight onto McCoy’s shirt before he stilled again. He smacked his small lips once and then made more of those soft sighing snores as he fell into deeper sleep.

Jim had to shove hand over his mouth to stop the laughter at Bones’ expression. Bones looked like he’d been hit upside the head with a two by four. 

_I guess he finally got hit by Spock’s adorable stick,_ Jim thought, grinning as he walked next to his friend as they left the mess. _It’s about time! I was wondering how much longer he’d be able to resist him._

McCoy glared over Spock’s head at Jim, who widened his smile at his friend. 

“This doesn‘t mean I like him,” insisted McCoy darkly. His face harsh and scowling but Jim didn’t buy it because Bones was also gently patting Spock’s back, as if to soothe any hurt caused by those words.

Spock mumbled something inaudible and tightened his hold on McCoy’s blue shirt.

“Yeah, you old softy. I can see how much you don‘t like him,” Jim whispered. By the time they walked into Spock’s quarters, McCoy was glaring at him while Jim openly gloated. 

It didn’t take McCoy long to get Spock ready for bed. He just popped off his boots and the pulled off his outer blue uniform shirt and tucked him into bed. Jim watched all this with interest, taking mental notes. He knew that next time it would be his responsibility to see Spock to sleep. 

“No, pajamas?” Jim asked. 

“That would really wake him up,” answered McCoy. “Next time, you‘ll have to get him ready before he falls asleep.”

Jim nodded in agreement. His expression was mischievous as he asked, “How do you think Spock will react to footie pajamas?”

McCoy stopped fussing with Spock’s blanket and gave Jim a blank look. Then he arched his eyebrow at him. “Footie pajamas? Do you want Spock to choke you again?”

“Come on, Bones. They are perfectly normal sleepwear for Earth kids,” Jim protested. “Everyone wears them. They‘re practically traditional.”

“I never wore them,” McCoy said. He moved off from the bed, to the outer receiving room.

Jim followed, “That‘s because you grew up in the South. The North, on the other hand, saw snow. I wore them.”

“Yes, and we know how perfectly normal you turned out,” said McCoy, dryly. “Stop trying to warp the kid. He has it tough enough as it is. He‘s letting you to take care of him, God help him.” McCoy paused for a moment. “Although, if you succeeded in getting him to wear it, take pictures. I got to have some kind of leverage on Spock. Do you know how hard it is to get him in for his routine check ups? I have to use threats! Which he argues against! I‘m quickly getting to the point where I‘ll have to start repeating myself.”

Jim grinned, listening with half an ear to Bones gripping about Spock. He‘d heard it so often that it was white noise and easy to tune out. 

That’s when Spock shifted and sighed loud enough that it made McCoy shut up and they both turned to listen. But Spock returned to being silent. 

Jim shrugged at Bones. 

“I better go before I wake him up. And since I got an away mission in the morning, I better get some sleep,” sighed McCoy. 

“Alright, Bones. Sleep tight,” Jim said. 

As the doors to the quarters opened, McCoy paused and then turned to Jim. Poking him in the chest. 

“I nearly forgot. Since you insist that Spock stay here and not in sickbay, you‘ll need to run scans on him with a medical tricorder. Every other hour, all night,” McCoy said seriously. “The bio-sensor only records so much, and I‘ll need that data.”

Jim shot him a look of dismay. “But Bones-!”

“I‘ll send a nurse to bring you one. Log in the results in the computer. I‘m having the night shift keep an eye out for them so I‘ll know if you don‘t do it,” McCoy continued, not letting him get in a word edgewise. 

“Fine, fine,” Jim agreed. “I‘ll do it. Just don‘t expect me to be a bucket of sunshine in the morning.”

“As if I haven‘t seen you pull off all-nighters before, and come out of fresh as a daisy,” McCoy said, rolling his eyes and walking away.

“Yeah, but I was getting laid then,” Jim grumbled under his breath. 

Oh well, it wasn’t like he wasn’t already well rested. He’d been doing nothing but twiddling his thumbs and pestering his officers - especially grownup Spock - while recovering from his injuries. Bones had refused to so much as let him set foot on the bridge while he’d been convalescing. An order the normally Jim would have cheerfully ignored, if Bones hadn’t backed it with the threat of chemically castrating him for their next shore leave if he so much as thought of sitting on the captain’s chair.

That had been a threat that not only worked, but it also kept Jim off that deck level entirely. He nearly died of boredom until he realized that McCoy never said he couldn’t go elsewhere on the ship. So, he’d wandered up and down the Enterprise. Peeking into corners that he’d never seen before. Into parts of the ship that even after six months as her captain he’d barely gotten to know. It had been on such an exploration trip that he’d gotten an urgent com-call requiring his presence in the medical bay because something had happened to Spock.

And there was an idea of the sort of things he could do with Spock later on. 

Jim realized that he should plan ways to keep them both entertained for the next couple of days. Especially since he had to figure out ways to make Spock one happy little Vulcan. If it turned out that was the only way they had to return Spock to normal then he’d better start figuring out the sort of activities that Spock would like. 

One benefit they had going for them was that Spock had a blast learning new things. If there was one thing this ship was chock-full of, it was geniuses that were experts in a lot of different fields. As captain, Jim had no compunction about ordering them into helping him.

The science labs alone would be like a trip to a theme park for Spock. Of that, Jim had no doubt. Then there was the engine room. Spock was bound to enjoy looking at the warp core engine.

Speaking of which… Jim moved over to the com and made certain that his orders for Sulu, Uhura, and Scotty were sent to their computers so they knew to meet at the transporters at 0900 hours. He barely got finished entering the parameters of the mission into the ship’s log when the com-unit beeped to get his attention.

“Kirk here,” he answered. A window on the screen opened to reveal Scotty peering out at him. 

“Captain! Oh good, I caught ye before ye went off to some well earned rest,” said Scotty. 

At ‘captain’, Jim straightened up. This was official business. “How can I help you Mr. Scott?”

“It‘s about that away mission in the morning, Captain. I‘m afraid I cannae do it. I‘ve been changing the flow of the matter/antimatter matrix to fix a drop of output in the nacelles. I cannae just leave the engines alone until it‘s done,” Scotty explained.

“Who authorized this?” Jim asked frowning. 

“Mr. Spock, sir. Before he headed down to the planet and got turned into a wee laddie,” said Scotty. 

Jim grinned at the idea of Spock being a ‘wee’ anything before becoming serious. He sighed, “Damn it.” 

No wonder he hadn’t known. Spock probably hadn’t had time to update him on the situation before he’d been changed. Jim hadn’t yet checked Spock’s previous signed off orders, as he fully trusted his first officer. Obviously, he needed do that at some point soon. If this had caught him off-guard, there could be other things there too.

“If ye don‘t mind, Captain. I‘d rather send Keenser down to the planet,” said Scotty. “He‘s nearly as good at me at engineering, and he‘s actually better with crystals than I am. Though, if ye repeat that to him, I‘ll deny it to my dying breath.”

Jim laughed at that. “Alright, Scotty. I‘ll change the orders. But if Keenser thinks that he needs your input, I‘ll end up sending you down there. The engines will be just fine without you for a couple of hours. Getting Spock back to normal is a top priority.”

“I wouldn't be askin’ if I didn‘t think it was important, Captain. We all want Mr. Spock back to normal,” said Scotty. “I‘ll let ye get back to what ye were doing. Scott out.”

Jim nodded and closed down the window. He updated the files, including the away orders. As, soon as he was done, he stretched. Yawning and raising his arms above his head, sleepiness finally descending upon him like a hammer. Fortunately, Rand had the foresight to also send him a kit, with sleeping clothes, an extra uniform and other toiletries, along with the extra bed Jim had ordered. 

While he may not be able to give her a medal, Jim decided he certainly owned her a commendation.

He was nearly done getting ready to head for bed when the nurse arrived at the door with the promised medical tricorder. After thanking him, Jim promptly ran a scan over the still sleeping Spock. 

The boy, had shifted at some point and was now curled up on his side. A small fist was pressed to his mouth, and his feet were peeking out from under the blankets. His face was barely visible under a cave of blankets.

The scans came out perfectly normal for the young Vulcan. Jim logged the results as Bones had asked before crawling into bed. Tomorrow was another day, and he had the feeling that Spock would make it more exciting than it normally would have been.

He ordered the computer to wake him in two hours and then drifted off into a doze.


	3. Chapter 3

The first and second time Jim was woken by the computer, he promptly got up to scan Spock without fail. He entered in the data and went back to sleep. The third time that Jim was woken that night, it was by the soft padding of little feet walking around the room. A sound so odd to Jim’s sleeping mind that it pushed him out of sleep and into full alertness in a heartbeat.

He squinted into the dim room, and saw Spock sitting in front of the computer, his expression calm but his eyes clearly showed his fascination by what he was reading on the monitor. 

“Hey, Spock,” Jim called, sitting up in the bed.

Spock paused whatever he was looking at and turned to Jim. “My apologies sir, I did not intend to wake you.”

“Nah, it‘s alright,” Jim said, stifling a yawn.

Spock didn’t look mollified. “Humans require more sleep than Vulcans.”

 _There is something very quote like about that sentence,_ Jim thought. As if it had been told to Spock on more than one occasion. Idly, Jim wondered if it had come from Spock’s father or his mother. Just based on syntax, he’d pick his father.

“Yes, that‘s true, but missing out on a little sleep isn‘t going to kill me,” Jim said sincerely. “I‘m glad to be awake.”

Spock peered at him, as if the verify the truth of Jim’s words, before nodding his acceptance.

“So, what are you up to?” Jim asked.

“I have been checking the computer library databanks,” answered Spock.

“Oh, what for?” Jim asked casually, his mind and heart suddenly racing. He wondered if Spock had gained access to information about what had happened to Vulcan. _Oh, fuck. Oh fuck!_

“I have been reading the reports I have filed as first officer,” Spock said. He looked over at Jim. “I full access to the computer. Have I overstepped my bounds, sir?”

Jim eyed him carefully. From Spock’s calm and lack of tension, Jim guess that Spock hadn’t found anything about Vulcan. _Yet._ Thank God.

“I would rather that you didn‘t look into the ship‘s logs or reports, Spock,” Jim answered him. “It isn‘t that I don‘t trust you, it‘s just that some of the information is classified. You - grown-up you - has full access and knows the importance of that information.”

Spock looked like he was going to object. 

“And even more importantly, you‘re not actually trained to be a Starfleet officer. At least, you don‘t remember that training,” Jim said gently. “So, I‘d rather you didn‘t access anything on the computer without clearing it with me first.”

While Spock didn’t exactly frown, the small change in his expression conveyed the same sentiment. Jim held his breath.

“Would it not be logical to revoke my clearance in order to allow me to have access to the library banks that are cleared for civilian use?” asked Spock. 

The silently pleading look in Spock’s eyes nearly broke Jim’s resistance, but he was determined. He wouldn’t lie to Spock, but that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t omit some information. There were just some things that Spock simply couldn’t find out about. There was too much information that if he did discover it, could actually get in the way of the whole ‘Make Spock Happy’ plan. And that Jim would _not_ allow to happen.

“Yeah, but I’d rather not go through the mass of paperwork that would take,” said Jim, in what he knew was a rather lame excuse, but he didn’t really have any argument that Spock wouldn’t be able to use logic to get around it.

Spock dropped his eyes and the nearly imperceptible slump of shoulders hit Jim like a blow - or a spear - to his guts. He threw himself out of bed so quickly that he practically teleported to Spock’s side. 

“Hey, now. It‘s alright. I promised I‘d stick to you like glue so it won‘t be any problem for you to look up anything you want,” Jim said.

Spock looked up again.

Jim flashed him a smile. “Now, what do you want to look up?”

“Mathematics, specifically algebra,” said Spock.

“Okay! That won‘t be a problem,” said Jim. He dragged an extra chair to Spock’s side and opened up the search engine for the computer database.  
*-*-*-*

 _The great thing about taking care of a Vulcan kid,_ Jim thought, _is that they were rather good at entertaining themselves._ Or so, Jim had discovered. 

Spock was perfectly content to absorb information from the computer like a sponge. In fact, his concentration had been so focused on his math lesson that Jim’s worry that he’d accidentally stumble over information regarding Vulcan’s fate, quickly faded away. So much so that he had no compunction about stepping away to take a sonic shower, grab a cup of coffee and start going over the morning reports generated during Gamma shift. 

With so many of the senior bridge officers out of commission or tapped for other work, the officers from Gamma and Beta shift had been pulling overtime. Normally, Jim wouldn’t have agreed to this, as he felt that tired officers made poor officers, but their stationary orbit above Cromtic was safe enough to warrant such efforts. And this star system was deep in Federation held territory so that the chance of attack by hostile forces was 3.432 percent. 

A number that Jim only knew to such an exacting degree because Spock had told him so when Jim had been complaining over not being allowed on the bridge much earlier in the week. He remembered the mocking raised eyebrow Spock had given him then, and the pointless debate they indulged in, to their mutual amusement. He missed the adult Spock with a sharp pang that was growing sharper the more time went by.

In the last six months, ever since Spock had showed up on the bridge of the Enterprise asking to be considered for the post of first officer, Jim’s relationship with him had slowly but steadily improved. Once pointed barbs had become friendly jabs. As they had settled into their roles as command officers, their confidence in each other had also deepened.

Damn it, he just missed Spock. 

If it had been anyone else turned into a child, Jim had no doubt that Spock would already have a solution. Of course, it had been anyone else they wouldn’t have such a tough problem getting a kid to be happy. Nor would he be feeling so worried about the kid’s finding out the fate of his people and his mother.

Which reminded him, “Spock.”

The boy paused the computer mathematics program. “Yes sir?”

“Can you tell me how old you are?”

“I am 6 years, 2 months, 5 days and 15.1 hours, sir,” Spock answered. 

_Huh, so Spock didn’t age jump. I wonder why not?_ Jim pondered. 

Spock had spent 2 hours hooked up to the computer just learning, an activity that Jim knew he liked. Maybe Spock’s emotions were only triggered if he had interaction with someone, not just face time with an emotionless computer. And if that’s how it worked then having Spock stuck in his quarters doing nothing but computer learning wasn’t going to do him any good. 

“I think it‘s time we took a break,” Jim announced. 

Spock’s mouth tightened. “I still have 1.03 hours scheduled for my mathematics education.”

Jim’s mouth twitched in amusement at the sulkiness in the boy’s tone.

“That may be true,” Jim nodded cheerfully. “But my schedule involves me popping up the bridge to check up on crew, and if you come with me you can see your science station.”

From the look in Spock’s eyes, it was clear that he was torn between his duty to his education and the bribe Jim was dangling before him.

Jim very carefully didn’t whoop in triumph as the boy nodded in agreement though he did grin widely. 

“I need new clothes, sir,” Spock said as he stood up. “The ones I had before are no longer accurate to my measurements.”

Oh hell, Jim hadn’t considered that. Spock _would_ be growing with his age jumps while his clothes stayed the same. 

“Do you want to wear the uniform again?” Jim asked, rather interested in the answer. 

Spock said slowly, “I do not think that would be appropriate, sir. After all, I am not a trained Starfleet officer.”

_Damn, way to have my own words used against me._

“Okay, okay,” Jim sighed. Too bad, he wanted to see how those on the bridge would react to such a small Spock showing up while wearing the uniform. “I‘ll get something out of the replicator.” Jim lit up as he thought of what else he could get Spock to wear. He kept in mind that the clothes had to be loose enough so that Spock wouldn’t accidentally tear apart his clothing if he grew too suddenly and that they also had to be resistant to the cold of the ship which was set at human preference.

Jim plugged in the requirements. And pulled out a small leather jacket, thick white cotton shirt, and a pair of blue jeans with a stretchy waistband, as well as underclothes, and new and bigger boots.

Jim practically beamed as he handed everything to a Spock that looked blanker than usual.

“I wore an similar outfit before I joined Starfleet,” Jim said, in response to Spock’s expression.

He raised a tiny slanted eyebrow at Jim, his expression rather skeptical in a way that was pure Spock for ‘You are a strange human’.

Jim struggled to keep his expression innocent.

“Go on,” Jim encouragingly. “I‘ll be right here.” And all but shoved Spock into the restroom to change.

As soon as the boy vanished from sight, Jim ordered the computer compose a visual file of Spock as soon as he stepped out. He did promise himself he’d get pictures. And by damn, he was going to get proof of Spock wearing different outfits even if it ended up resulting in his death. With that in mind, Jim inputted an extra order in the computer to hide the file in his personal databanks. The kind that could only be accessed by others in the event of his capture or death.

 _Hopefully, the death wouldn’t be at the hands of my first officer,_ Jim thought mischievously.

When Spock walked out, he was wearing his very serious expression. The entire outfit when mixed with Spock’s Vulcan features was so disconcerting that Jim boggled at the picture he made.

_All he needs is a little motorcycle, maybe a pair of sunglasses, to go with those clothes and he’d be a perfect biker boy!_

Spock was looking up at Jim’s face.

“You look perfect,” Jim told him. 

Spock nodded, and then took the hand Jim held out to him. 

_This,_ Jim thought with entirely too much glee for a grown man let alone one who was also a Starfleet captain, _is going to be so much fun!_  
*-*-*-*

And it was. 

The crew, who’d rather quickly grown accustomed to seeing their first officer as a little child, went back to doing double takes when they saw him walking hand in hand with their captain, all while wearing clothes that normally adult Spock would have never touched, let alone deigned to put on.

It filled Jim with delight to see their reactions, though he was rather saddened that no one ran into bulkheads this time.

Considering the time that he and Spock were out and about was 0850, Jim decided that they would stop by the main transporter room in order to see the away team going to down the Cromtician planet. When he’d been making the orders last night, he hadn’t thought that Spock would require so little sleep and had figured that by the time they had pried themselves out of bed that Sulu, Uhura, Keenser and Bones would already be down on the surface. 

Since that plan was scrapped, Jim rather thought it would be a good idea to stop by and answer any last minute questions they had for him. And he really, desperately, wanted to see Bones’ reaction to Spock’s clothes. 

Bones, more than anyone, with the possible exception of Uhura, would recognize what Spock was wearing as the miniature version of one of Jim’s own favorite things to wear when not clad in a Starfleet uniform.

And Bones reaction didn’t disappoint. 

“Oh, hell. You‘re turning the poor kid into _you!_ ” said McCoy, as soon as Jim and Spock walked through the doors and into the transporter room. 

McCoy’s exclamation made everyone else turn to them. And Jim smirked at their reactions. Even the transporter techs were wide-eyed.

Sulu stared at Spock before smiling. “Looking good, Commander.”

Keenser’s black eyes were rapidly blinking in either surprise or puzzlement. Jim couldn’t say which. He could have just been wondering what in the world the humans were going on about.

The only person’s who didn’t end up smiling at the sight of Spock was Uhura. Jim gave her a look, trying tell her to relax. It was times like these that he wished he had telepathy. 

Uhura must have caught and interpreted his look correctly because she summed up a tremulous smile for Spock. 

Spock took all this stoically, though his eyes were a touch wider than usual. 

“Just stopping by to see you guys off,” Jim said, giving them all a smile. “And to find out if you had any last minute questions for me?”

“No sir. We have our orders,” said Sulu.

“We were just about to beam down, Jim,” McCoy said. “With the scans you gathered last night, and getting my questions answered by the priest I should know whether or not I can provide a cure before lunch.” 

“Do your best. Send up reports to the bridge at hourly intervals. They have orders to keep me updated on your progress,” Jim said. He nodded to the transporter technician manning the primary controls. She nodded in acknowledgement and turned her attention back to the readouts.

Everyone got on the transporter pads, standing straight and expectant. Only McCoy looked like he was seriously considering making a run for it. 

“Energize,” said Sulu.

And the away team vanished in the familiar brilliant white swirl of transporter energy. 

“Sir, may I ask the purpose of their away mission?” asked Spock. 

Jim looked down at him in surprise. He hadn’t actually told the kid that they were trying to find a way to get him back to normal, had he? No, he couldn’t remember any point in the last day when he’d sat down and told Spock what they were up to in regards to his situation.

“They are trying to find a cure to get you back to normal, Spock,” said Jim.

Spock didn’t look like he understood Jim‘s explanation. “My current status is normal.” 

“I mean, that we‘re trying to get you back to your grown-up self,” Jim explained. And he tugged them out of the transporter room, waving at the techs who turned to watch them leave through the double doors.

They walked to the nearest turbolift, and Jim engaged the controls to get them onto the bridge.

From Spock’s silence, Jim guess that the boy was thinking seriously about his words. 

It made Jim think of how very strange everything had to be from Spock’s point of view. 

“So… how are you feeling about all this?” Jim asked. 

“Feeling, sir?” Spock’s voice sounded shaded with indignation. “Vulcans do not feel anything.”

Jim looked down at him with fond amusement. Sure, that’s what Spock said. Jim knew better. 

“My apologies, that was poor word choice,” Jim answered him, his voice carefully kept serious. “I meant, what is your opinion about the situation?”

Spock was silent again. A tiny line forming on his brow as he thought out his response. The lift doors opened before he could speak.

Jim tugged them out. 

“Keptin!” said Chekov, rising from the captain’s chair. 

Jim waved him down. “At ease, Ensign. I‘m just here for an update, and to refamiliarize Mr. Spock with the bridge.”

Chekov’s eyes had widened at the sight of Spock. “Aye sir.”

Everyone on the bridge had turned from their stations and were watching the newly arrived pair with barely concealed interest. 

It took a moment to convince the science officer to give Spock an explanation of all the controls on the science station. The poor man looked rather terrified at having to be teaching a person who was his superior officer. Jim ruthlessly told Spock to ask the man any questions he wanted. An amused Jim left Spock sitting on the chair, looking down at the readouts with interest while the science officer - Mr. Hernandez, if Jim was remembering correctly - hovered next to him. 

Jim walked stood next Chekov to get his report. 

“Keptin, the ship is still in its stable orbit abowe the planet. The only complication reported comes from Engineering. Mr. Scott says that the dilemma with the port nacelles has become more problematic than he first thought.”

Jim frowned, and now worried about his ship.

“Did he say what the problem was?” he asked sharply. 

Chekov shook his head. “I‘m sorry, sir. He said he was still trying to track it down. He _thinks_ that one of the parts that the Enterprise received in Space Station 23 was flawed.”

“Space Station 23,” Jim said in disgust. “Why am I not surprised?” That had been the stop of their last shore leave. A surprisingly miserable base considering that it was pretty close to Federation main lanes of space traffic. 

The civilian official running it had been so smarmy that it had taken every ounce of hard won control for Jim not to have punched him the first time they spoke. As it was, only Spock’s cool control in the face of his insinuations, about the crew - that they were Jim’s personal harem - had held Jim back. Well, that and the fear that he if touched the other man, even with just a fist, he’d end up spending his entire leave in the sonic shower to get rid of the slime.

The only satisfaction Jim had gotten from the base was the memory of Yeoman Rand, giving the man a solid kick between the legs.

It had left him smiling for the rest of shore leave.

“Thank you, Mr. Chekov. I guess, my next stop is Main Engineering,” said Jim. He paused, then lowered his voice as he added. “I did have an additional motivation to stop by the bridge. I need a favor.”

“Yes, sir,” answered Chekov, without hesitation.

Jim smiled at him. “I need you to program the main library computer to keep all references of Vulcan - of what happened to it - away from the computer in Mr. Spock’s quarters.”

Chekov frowned. “I‘m afraid I don‘t understand, Keptin.”

“Have you read the report McCoy filed about Spock‘s condition and how he‘s getting better?” asked Jim.

“Yes, sir.”

“Then, can you image how much harder it‘s going to be to make Spock older if he knows that his whole planet is gone? That his own mother-” Jim cut himself off, throwing a paranoid look back to Spock, but the boy was obviously absorbed by what he was doing and hadn‘t caught he was the topic of discussion. 

“Ah, I understand, sir. If Mr. Spock knew what happened to Wulcan, he would not be a wery happy boy,” said Chekov. 

“That‘s right,” Jim said. “I‘d rather we didn’t shoot ourselves in the foot by accidentally letting that slip, so also send out a discreet memo to the rest of the ship informing everyone to keep that information to themselves for the time being.”

“Yes, Keptin. Will do,” said Chekov. 

“Good man,” said Jim, with a smile and a firm pat on the teenager’s back.

He collected Spock from the science station, practically prying the boy from the chair. Spock kept casting looks back to the chair. The entire bridge looked disappointed. Even Mr. Hernandez looked sorry to see him go.

“Sorry Spock,” Jim told him, as they walked off the bridge. “We‘ll stop by again later on. I just need to check in with Mr. Scott in Engineering.”

“Yes sir,” said Spock with a low - and clearly disappointed - sigh.

Jim, hoping to distract him, asked. “Hey, you never answered my question.”

Spock looked up into his eyes. His expression rather serious. “I have considered my answer. As the science officer I need to be returned to my correct age as soon as possible.”

Well, that was the logical answer that Jim should have expected to hear from Spock, but it didn’t really tell him what he really wanted to know.

“Yeah,” Jim sighed. 

“I-” Spock said, before cutting himself off.

“What is it, Spock?” asked Jim, gently. 

“I have some trepidation about my status upon being returned to my appropriate age,” Spock said slowly. “I do not wish to forget my current experiences.” Spock then dropped his eyes, studying the floor of the lift with more fascination than it actually warranted. “I do not want to forget…”

Jim gave his hand an encouraging squeeze.

“…I do not want to forget you, sir,” Spock practically whispered.

And damn if that wasn’t nearly biggest and most unexpected thing that Jim had ever heard. It totally knocked him on his ass, metaphorically speaking.

“You won‘t,” Jim said hoarsely. He cleared his throat. “You‘ve been remembering everything that has happened so far, right?”

Spock nodded, still looking down at the floor. 

“Then I‘m certain you‘ll remember everything even once you‘re all grown up,” he continued. “And even if you don‘t remember. I will. And I‘ll find a way to remind you.” 

Even if he had to convince his stubborn first officer that a mind-meld was the only way to do it because there was no way that Jim would end up disappointing the boy, even if said boy had grown up into that very first officer.

Spock’s serious demeanor softened, his shoulders loosening. “Thank you, sir.”

“Consider it a promise,” Jim said.

Spock’s entire face practically glowed with his delight, the small corners of his mouth lifting up. A smile clearly struggling to escape his control.

It made Jim rather happy to see it. “You really should call me, Jim.”

“Very well, sir. Jim,” Spock said. 

Jim damn near beamed down at him. And in that moment, Jim caught the age jump. It was subtle but fast. 

It was lot like looking a picture, looking away and seeing something different when you looked back again. For one moment, Spock’s clothes had hung on the loose side and in the next blink of the eye, they fit him perfectly. 

“Spock, how old are now?” Jim asked.

“I am 6 years, 9 months, 3 weeks, 5 days and 17.32 hours old,” said Spock. He then carefully pulled his hand free from Jim’s grasp.

Jim’s eyebrows went up. _Huh, he’s nearly seven. And probably thinks he’s too old for hand-holding._ He had to suppress the urge to grab it back. Jim rather liked holding Spock’s hand as they walked through the ship and he found himself missing it.

 _Well, I did want him to grow up. It’s silly to suddenly want him to stop,_ Jim thought, wryly. Shaking his head at himself, he stepped out of the doors of the turbolift as it opened to let them into the main engine room where Scotty ruled as a not-so-benevolent ruler.

“I said to take that spanner to Jeffries Tube Six! Six! Do yer want the ship to explode? No? Then take it to Jeffries Tube Six!” Scotty was yelling into the com. 

“Have I come at a bad time, Mr. Scott?” Jim asked dryly.

“Captain!” Scotty cried out. 

“If the ship is going to explode would not be logical to evacuate?” asked Spock, his voice stunned. His hand then reached out and grabbed Jim’s. 

Jim looked down at him in surprise before remembering that Vulcans weren’t in the habit of using hyperbole. 

“He‘s just exaggerating,” Jim reassured him. 

“Not by that much, Captain,” snorted Scotty as he stopped in front of them. “And ye have good timing. I‘ve just come back from checking the power coupling. I found the problem.”

“Well, Mr. Scott, don’t keep us in suspense,” said Jim.

“Follow me, I‘ll show ye over here,” said Scotty. He led them over the computer where he’d just been yelling at some hapless member of the engineering crew and pulled up a schematic of the ship 

Spock leaned in close with interest as Scotty touched the screen to zero in on a section of ship near the nacelles. 

“It took all night, but I found the piece of shite that we got from that Space Station,” said Scotty. “The replacement part for the main power conduit in the left nacelle. It wasn’t up to specs, Captain. There is a hidden crack in it!” Scotty looked disgusted. “The only reason the lady didn‘t blow up on us is that we havenae had to push the engines and we only just installed it when we arrived in the star system.” 

Jim frowned. “How did it get missed? Was it just a mistake or sabotage?”

Scotty also frowned. “I donae know, Captain. I’ve been yellin’ at everyone. It seems to have been missed in the routine inspection. Although, if I had to make a guess, the part that was checked at the station - the one actually passed - was switched out for that-that- garbage! Right before we left.”

Jim had to suppress his own swearing. He glared at the schematic were the left nacelle was glowing red. 

“How long will it take to repair her, Scotty?”

“A couple of days, sir. I‘ll need to take it part to try to see if it is even possible for me to repair it. Only, I‘ll need to stop the anti-matter/matter reaction in the engines. We‘ll be stuck with impulse power until I get us goin’ again,” answered Scotty.

“What do you think your chances are to fix it?” asked Jim. The sort of parts they needed to get from space stations were notoriously difficult to fix. There was a reason that they needed to get replacements. Otherwise the engineers would have simply been able to manufacture the parts onboard. Although Jim had full confidence that if there was anyone who could get the Enterprise back to tip-top shape against long odds, it was the one man who possibly adored the ship more than its captain.

“We lucky we still have the old parts. I should be able to put somethin’ together from them to hold us together until we can get back to a real starbase. If I could get a hold of whoever did this…” Scotty’s voice trailed off threateningly. 

Scotty and Jim gave each other look of perfect understanding. 

“Fix our lady, then get me a report that I can show to Admiral Pike,” Jim said grimly. “If this has happened to us. It‘s bound to happen to another ship. And they won‘t have a Scotty of their own to save their bacon.”

“Aye, sir,” agreed Scotty.

Jim turned to gaze back to the computer which was the only reason he caught it when the screen flickered, just once. But it was enough warning, and before he even formed thought, Jim grabbed Spock and shoved the boy behind him. 

The computer exploded with a shower of blue sparks which hit everything within five feet. 

“Bloody hell!” yelped Scotty, leaping away and raising an arm to shield his face.

Jim could feel the heat of those sparks landing on his back, as he hunched protectively over Spock. Fortunately, their Starfleet uniforms weren’t just random cloth, and were actually made with material intended to provide protection against fire, and electricity. But as good as Starfleed issued gear was, it coun't stop a few burns from forming on his bare neck, or the ache in his side from flaring into life.

“Damn it!” swore Scotty. He grabbed a foam suppressor from a nearby wall and attacked the still sputtering com-unit with it. 

It quickly died under a mountain of white foam. 

“Are ye alright, Captain?” asked Scotty, once as he toggled the suppressor to a stop.

“I‘m fine, Scotty,” said Jim, finally straightening and letting Spock out his arms. “Spock, are you alright?” he asked urgently. He inspected him, but didn’t see anything wrong, not even so much as a smolder. Jim slumped in relief. 

“I have not sustained damage,” said Spock, looking very shaken and pale. “You are injured!”

The sharpness in Spock’s voice and the direction of his gaze made Jim raise a hand to his neck. It came back smeared with red streaks. The pain hit a second later. 

Jim winced. 

It wasn’t too bad, injury wise. He’d been hurt often enough to be able to tell when it was dangerous. This was fairly minor, little more than a few bad paper cuts, if only painful because they were burns, yet Spock’s reaction made him want to go down to medical bay to get it fixed just to get that strained expression out of the boy’s eyes. 

“Just a few tiny burns, Captain,” said Scotty. “I ‘ave an emergency med-kit around here somewhere. It‘ll take care of it.”

“Thank you, Scotty,” said Jim. 

Scotty quickly came back with the med-kit.

“Here ye go, sir.” Scotty said, setting the kit down next to Spock. “Now, with yer leave, I need to go yell at some people for nearly killin’ the captain and first officer before they really do kill someone.”

Scotty stalked out, glowering and muttering threats. 

Jim wasn’t too certain, but he rather thought he heard Scotty threatening to keelhaul someone.

He was starting to reach for the med-kit when Spock opened it first. He watched with interest as the boy pulled out the dermal regenerator and studied it before hitting the correct button to turn it on. 

Spock then turned to Jim, his expression set at determined. 

Jim sat at the deck to let him have access his injuries. Curious, he asked, “How do you know how to use that?” Dermal regenerators were pretty complex pieces of medical equipment.

“My mother taught me the use of several medical devices in case of an emergency,” answered Spock, his voice low and tense. 

Jim considered him from the corner of his eyes. “Hey, I‘m fine,” he said soothingly.

Spock gave him a look. “Fine has too many variable definitions to be used as an accurate assessment.”

Jim couldn’t fight off his smile at the scolding tone in that voice. 

“You are currently recovering from injuries sustained from a previous mission. You do not need more,” Spock continued. 

Jim stared at him in astonishment. “What? How? How did you know that?” Jim knew he hadn’t mentioned, and he sure as hell couldn’t imagine anyone else letting that bit of information slip to the kid.

Spock just looked at him calmly. “I read the report my older self had filed.” His eyes dropped to focus on Jim’s neck where he was running the regenerator. “I was curious as to why the captain of a starship would be taking the time to take care of a child when his own duties are more important.”

Jim was amused, at Spock and himself. He really should have known better than to underestimate Spock.

“I also learned that your injuries were the result of protecting my life,” Spock continued, his expression still serious. “I admit that I do not understand. It is illogical for a captain to risk his life for an officer of lower rank.”

Jim’s eyebrows went up. Adult Spock had given him a lecture practically using those exact words, all while Jim had been laid up in sickbay unable to so much as order him to shut up because Bones had him on the good drugs and all he’d been able to do was slur nonsense.

“Spock,” Jim said, hoping to interrupt the beginning of another such lecture. It would just be too weird to get it from such a young boy. “As the captain, I‘m suppose to protect my crew.” He smiled reassuringly. “Therefore it was a perfectly logical action to take.”

Spock’s frown was more pronounced as he mentally went over Jim‘s words. He finally nodded in grudging acceptance and pulled the dermal regenerator away. He silently returned it to its spot in the med-kit. 

“Thanks, Spock,” said Jim, running a hand over his neck and not even feeling a twinge of pain.

“You‘re welcome, Jim,” said Spock. 

The kid still looked troubled and definitely _not_ happy.

Hoping to distract him, Jim smiled encouragingly. “Come on, let‘s get something to eat. By the time we‘re done with breakfast, Scotty should have an answer for us about whether or not the ship will actually explode.”

Normally, Jim would have cheerfully dragged Spock on a tour of the main engine room, but considering the current status of the ship, and the way that all the engineers were running around trying to fix her, he’d rather they stayed out of their way. And he really didn’t want to be near another exploding com-unit. That had been too close for comfort. So, Jim would just have to find something else for them to do today.

Spock looked disproving at Jim’s exaggeration. 

Jim just laughed and hauled them out of Engineering. 

The cup of coffee had worn off and he wanted something more solid to eat.


	4. Chapter 4

Since Spock still refused to admit he had any food preferences, Jim ended up picking their meal again. If it had been lunch, then Jim thought that he could cheerfully have stuck a bowl of spaghetti under Spock’s nose just to see his reaction to it. 

Then he decided to hell with it and ordered up a bowl filled only with tomato sauce - no meatballs - and spaghetti noodles for Spock and himself to enjoy. 

The tiny wrinkling of Spock’s nose was enough to make Jim grin. 

“I have never eaten this food before,” Spock said, staring at the bowl. He gave it a poke with his fork. The noodles slid along the fork and his nose wrinkled even more.

“Really?” Jim asked, honestly surprised. He‘d been half thinking that Spock‘s mother would have exposed Spock to it. Italian food was easily among the most popular on Earth. “Then let me show you how to eat it.”

Jim quickly demonstrated to Spock how to twirl the noodles around a fork using his own pasta bowl.

The boy mimicked his movements perfectly. He carefully ate his pasta with such a look of concentration as he tried to capture the noodles around the fork that Jim rather wished he was recording him. 

Especially when at one rather hilarious point a wild noodle smacked Spock right on the nose with a wet pop and leaving behind a line of splattered tomato sauce.

Spock’s cross-eyed expression as he tried to look at the tip of his own nose nearly broke Jim. He had to fight so hard not to laugh that his side was aching again.

“Here Spock,” Jim said grinning, holding out a napkin. He had a feeling this would get messy. “You have some sauce on your face.” And he reached over the table and wiped Spock clean of tomato sauce. It wasn’t until he pulled back and saw the outraged expression that Spock was trying to suppress that it hit Jim what he’d just done. 

Wow, he really was getting into this whole parental thing wasn’t he? Even more than he expected.

“I am fully capable of cleaning after myself,” said Spock, primly. He gave Jim a look as if he was afraid Jim was going to baby him again. 

Jim sat back and nodded at him, his expression serious though his own lips kept twitching up. “Sorry, Spock.”

They went back to concentrating on their food when Yeoman Rand walked in. 

“Captain,” she said. “I have the update on the away team you ordered.”

“Thank you, yeoman,” said Jim. He grabbed her PADD and read over the report. A moment later he frowned. 

According to the report put together by Communications for his eyes, the away team was still involved in questioning High Priest-Engineer Kret. Bones had called up with the update saying that according to what he’d found out, there was nothing he could do, as the crystal Cub Sphere wasn’t using biochemical responses in order to activate and jump Spock forward in age. 

The reason he decided to stay down on the planet instead of coming back up right away was that the universal translator was still being problematic and he wanted to be certain that there was no misunderstanding in the answers he got from Kret. The moment that he was absolutely certain there had been no mistranslations, McCoy would return to the ship.

“Ah, damn,” Jim said. There went his best hope that Bones would be able to pull a miracle rabbit out of his hat. 

He was disappointed but not crushed, after all Spock was still aging up. Slowly, but surely they’d get the right aged Spock back on the ship. Even if at the rate he was going it would take a couple of weeks, at the very least. Also, the report included the information that Lieutenant Keenser was deeply involved in talking with Kret, though Bones had gotten lost on some of the technical details. He added that it seemed to be going well, they were only slowed by translation mishaps and technological differences.

Sulu had added that his own duties, which also involved the negotiation for the starbase were going well. That didn’t particularly surprise Jim. Sulu had been doing a great job with the negotiations ever since they’d come to Cromtic.

“Thanks, yeoman,” Jim said, quickly signing the report to indicate that it had gotten to him. “Continue to keep me updated on the away mission.”

“Then by your leave, Captain. Commander,” Rand nodded and turned to leave. 

“And Rand?” 

She paused, “Yes sir?”

“Have Doctor McCoy come and find me whenever he gets back onto the ship,” Jim added. 

“Aye, sir,” she nodded, and walked out of the mess with her standard determined walk that made people get out of her way.

Jim looked back to the table to see Spock giving him a serious expression.

“Your reaction indicates that you did not receive positive information from the report,” said Spock. 

“Yeah,” said Jim. He rubbed his chin and considered Spock. He debated what to tell him and what not to, then decided that this information was hardly as world shaking as the revelation of Vulcan. He could spill it to the kid without worries. He continued, “Bones - Dr. McCoy, says that he doesn‘t think he will be able to come up with a solution to getting you back to normal. That the reason you‘re ageing isn‘t physiological.”

Spock tilted his head, an eyebrow rising. “Fascinating. I did not know that Dr. McCoy was involved in conducting research to return me to my regular age.”

Jim smiled, “There‘s a reason he wants to stick you in the medical bay.”

At the reminder of the med-bay, a tiny frown swept across Spock’s face before he smoothed it out. 

Jim’s eyebrows went up. Now, there was a reaction he’d never caught from Spock before about the medial bay. 

“You,” said Jim, pointing his empty fork at Spock, “don‘t really like the medical bay do you?”

“Like is an emotion,” Spock responded flatly. “It is illogical to hold negative views on a place were one receives medical attention.”

With an intuitive flash Jim understood Spock’s reaction. He couldn’t say what triggered his understanding but he had it just from the way that Spock’s was scrunching his eyebrows and staying too still.

Spock, was the first _ever_ human-Vulcan hybrid in existence. Being the very first of anything was never easy and it was always unexpectedly complicated. Jim would bet a stack of credits that Spock spent a great deal of time being poked by doctors in those first few years of his life. 

Who knows what kind of tests were run on him over the all that time simply to find out if Spock would be healthy? To see if his two divergent DNA managed to exist in cohesive peace? Simply to check that he would survive into adulthood? That he wouldn’t develop problems with his biology as he grew?

Simply conceiving him must have taken a lab full of geneticists who knows how many months to pick and chose through his parents’ chromosomes to find the ones that were compatible. Making him must have taken the same kind of care that a master composer would use in choosing musical notes to create a symphony.

No wonder Spock hated being in the medical bay. Like Bones had said, even adult Spock had to practically be dragged in to get his regular examinations. And he never ever lingered longer than necessary after being treated for injuries. 

Except, Jim’s remembered, except for those times when _he’d_ been the one injured and stuck in sickbay. Then Spock would stick around, usually to lecture Jim about whatever stupid - well Spock thought it was stupid; Jim didn’t - action he had taken in order to save the day, the Enterprise, or alien princess/prince. The only other person that Spock descended down to medical bay for was Uhura.

Jim couldn’t help but feel very pleased that Spock had as much regard for him.

“I won‘t let Bones drag us back unless it‘s actually necessary,” Jim said reassuringly. 

Spock nodded and went back to concentrating on his food. He still ended up with sauce on his face by the time they had finished eating. This time Jim was able to resist his impulse to clean him up. Though he definitely smirked when Spock realized how messy he’d gotten. The expression was so disgusted, Jim rather thought that he’d have a hard time talking Spock into eating spaghetti again, any time soon.

“Captain!” 

Jim looked over to see Scotty walking through the open door of the mess. 

“Ah, there ye are sir,” Scotty said cheerfully. 

_Well, he certainly looks to be in a much better mood. I wonder what set that off._

“Hey, Scotty,” Jim replied, waving Scotty over. “Are you here to update me on the status of the Enterprise?”

“That and to get somethin’ to eat while I‘m at it,” said Scotty. “I ‘ave the feelin‘ that I won‘t get that much of a chance to do more than grab a nibble in the next few hours.”

“Alright, go grab your food, Scotty. Then come sit down with us.”

Scotty nodded. It took him just a moment to stop by the replicator and come back with a submarine sandwich wrapped in white paper. It was twice as thick as Jim’s forearm and three times as long. So long both of its ends were having off the tray.

When Scott sat down at the table, both Jim and Spock were giving him stunned looks as he took a big bite and chewed voraciously.

 _How in the hell was Scotty going to finish that?_ Jim thought incredulously.

Spock’s expression looked like he was running calculations of the size of the sandwich versus the average size of a human stomach and the results were not computing with the reality of the size of Scotty’s food. 

Scotty caught their expression and interpreted them correctly. He swallowed his bite and said, “I‘ll be savin‘ some of it for later.”

Jim smiled and shook his head. He teased, “Just don‘t get crumbs in the engines, Scotty.”

Scotty looked affronted. “As if I would!” 

While Scotty was devouring his gargantuan sub, Jim picked up the empty bowls and trays and dumped them into the recycler. Scotty had to be starving because by the time Jim was back, he had already eaten a third of it. 

“Scotty, take a moment to chew, if you end up choking on that I‘m not giving you the kiss of life,” Jim said dryly. 

“I don‘t want ye to! Just get one of the lovely lassies in the mess to do it for ye,” Scotty shot back, around a mouthful of food. He did slow down his furious chewing to a more sedate pace. 

“Speaking of lovely lassies, the ship…” continued Scotty, after swallowing. “I‘ve gone and pried that shite part out of the lady. Her main engine is offline and we are down to impulse. With that part out of ‘er she‘ll be fine. So she won‘t explode now by having the power coupling fail.”

“Well, that‘s a relief,” said Jim. 

“Aye, sir,” Scotty nodded. He lifted up a hand, and raised forefinger and thumb, separating it by a inch. “We came this close - this close! - to having a major failure of the power coupling.”

There was dark stain on Scotty’s red sleeve that caught Jim’s eye. He idly wondered if it was hydraulics fluid or the blood of an engineering minion that had displeased Scotty. With Scotty it was fifty-fifty on either.

“That bad?” asked Jim.

“Aye,” Scotty nodded. “But we should be operational before too long.”

“That‘s great!” Jim said. “Did you find anything about the part? Was its damage accidental? Or how it got onboard without someone noticing that it was screwed up?”

“I don‘t know yet,” said Scotty. “I had some of the lads down in the science department analyzing it right now.”

“That‘s a good idea,” said Jim.

“It is too bad Mr. Spock is not available to run his own tests, sir. Or I‘d ‘ave the answer for you that much sooner,” said Scotty, his voice regretful.

Spock straightened at the sound of his name. He’d been following the conversation with interest. At Scotty’s comment he looked intrigued.

Jim nodded in agreement, feeling that sharp pang again at the reminder of the loss of grownup Spock. And not just because his skills were irreplaceable and valuable to the ship.

“And how are you doing, laddie?” Scotty asked Spock.

“I am in standard health, sir,” Spock answered dutifully. 

“And is the Captain takin’ good care of ye?“ asked Scotty, with a teasing look at Jim. “Do I need to beat up him for ye?” 

Jim gave him a narrow-eyed look. 

“It‘s not too late for me to have you replaced with Keenser!” Jim said, as he mock threatened Scotty with a fist.

Scotty smirked at him, his eyes glittering with delight at the chance to tease his captain.

“Jim’s care is more than adequate,” said Spock, in answer. His expression was solemn.

“Only adequate?” asked Jim, giving Spock a faintly hurt look.

“More than adequate,” corrected Spock, his face still calm though there was faint twitch at the corner of his lips that delighted Jim.

“That‘s good to hear, laddie,” said Scotty. He took another huge bite of his sandwich. 

Then a weird high pitched trill came from Scotty, originating from the below the table and around Scotty’s abdomen.

Jim leaned over. “Scotty, I know you‘re hungry, but I have never heard that kind of stomach rumble before. I think you should stop by sickbay and get yourself checked out.”

“Oi! I nearly forgot the bugger,” said Scotty as put the sub down for the first time since he sat at the table to eat it and reached down.

Jim watched with interest as Scotty pulled out a fuzzy, rather squashed looking brown tribble into view. 

“Had the critter tucked under my shirt. Nearly forgot about ‘im,” continued Scotty. He handed him over to Spock. “I stopped by my room and got ‘im for the wee laddie.”

Spock raised his hand up and palm out. Scotty set the tribble in the cradle of his hand. 

Jim raised his eyebrows at this. 

“Figured the laddie could use a playmate. Tribbles have a soothing affect on humanoids. I thought it could help with agein’ him up,” explained Scotty. 

Jim was rather pleased at this. It was amazing that the crew were all helping, in their own ways, with the task of making Spock happy. That even as busy as Scotty had to be with keeping the Enterprise’s engines healthy, he still had time to think of Spock too. 

The furry ball trilled again and wiggled in Spock’s hand. 

Spock stared down at it in fascination, then slowly began to pet it with soft slow strokes across the top of the tribble.

It’s trill was now lower in pitch, nearly a purr. And the faint pleasure that spread across Spock’s face made a rather warm glow settle into Jim’s chest. 

Scotty looked satisfied at Spock‘s reaction. “Thought so.”

Jim shot Scotty an approving smile.

Scotty took yet another bite of his sub. “Well Captain, I am afraid that I got to get back to Engineering before someone tries to fit a flux regulator where it does not belong. Ye know how they get without me there to crack the whip.”

Jim nodded at him. “Thanks for the update, Scotty. Com me once you get more information on that part and where in the hell it came from.”

“Aye, sir,” Scotty wrapped the last half of the sandwich in the paper wrapper it had come in, and tucked it under his arm. He gave them both a final nod before he left the table, dropped his tray in the recycler and headed back out the door.

Jim turned back to Spock who was still petting the tribble but also looking back up. Jim noted with interest that his clothes were tighter on him. Even the sleeves of the leather jackets were exposing more of his slender wrists to the air than they had before Scotty had joined them at the table.

“How old are you now?” Jim asked. 

“I am 7 years, 2 months, 1 week and 3.11 days,” said Spock promptly. 

_Seven years,_ Jim thought. _It won’t be long before he’s ten._

“This is an interesting animal. What is its classification? I have never seen one before,” said Spock. 

“It‘s called a tribble,” answered Jim. “They‘ve been around for about a decade. They‘re friendly,” then he added jokingly, “though you must never get it wet or feed one after midnight.”

The serious expression on Spock’s face told Jim that his joke had gone right over the boy’s head.

“At what time would it be considered past midnight on a starship?” asked Spock, his tone puzzled.

“I was just kidding, Spock. It‘s a classic movie reference,” explained Jim. Mentally he added watching a ton of old Earth movies to his list of activities to do with Spock. They may not necessarily make him happy, but watching those antiques will certainly fill in a gap in Spock’s education that his first round of learning had missed. 

“Although about the feeding, not so much,” Jim continued. “Tribbles are born pregnant. If they are fed too much they start to multiply at a crazy fast rate. Some planet have ever forbidden them and labeled them as pests.”

Spock nodded, “Very well.” He still looked pleased with the tribble.

“Let's stop by your quarters and get you a change of clothes. I don‘t think what you‘re currently wearing will last you too long at the rate you‘re growing,” Jim said, as he stood up.

Spock agreed. He turned to follow Jim, still holding onto the tribble but he only made it two steps when he stumbled. 

The tiny pained noise he let loose made Jim glance back at him sharply. He froze and took a step towards him, “Spock, what‘s wrong?” 

Spock’s face looked as if all the blood had drained from it. Pale and shocked. It made his wide brown eyes all the darker.

“T‘Pring,” gasped Spock, then his eyes rolled back in his head. 

Jim moved and caught him just before he hit the floor. The tribble landed on the deck with a startled warble. Jim ignored it.

“Spock! Spock!”

But the kid didn’t response. He just shivered once, a tremor that went from head to foot, before he went frighteningly limp. 

The mess was loud as crew members jumped to their feet in alarm and shouting questions.

Jim pointed at an ensign. He shouted, “You! Call sickbay!”

The ensign didn’t even acknowledge and just leapt for the com. He yelled urgently, “Medical emergency in the mess hall! Medical emergency in the mess hall!”

Jim’s heart was pounding away and he was grateful that all his training let him keep a cool head as he carefully laid Spock onto the deck, checking his breathing, and his heartbeat. 

It thrummed away at it’s usual pace, the speed of faster than human, beneath Jim’s fingers were he had them pressed to Spock’s neck. 

“Oh thank god,” Jim said, as he sighed in relief at the feel of it. He couldn’t be certain without a medical scanner, but it felt worriedly slow. It was just so hard to tell with Vulcans. Their hearts didn’t have easily discernable beats like human hearts.

“Captain.”

Jim looked up to see the worried face of Nurse Chapel as she leaned over them. She’d been in the mess and was the first to react.

“Let me help,” she said urgently.

“Go on, nurse,” he agreed. It took a lot of self-control to pull himself away and let her take over.

He hovered next to her as she worked, his mind racing trying to discover what had happened. 

Spock had said something. 

_T’Pring. That’s a Vulcan name. A feminine name._ Jim thought. But it didn’t sound familiar at all. He’d never heard Spock mention anyone named T’Pring before. 

“Sir, he‘s in shock,” said Chapel. 

“How?” Jim asked. “We were just eating. Nothing we ate would trigger this in a Vulcan.”

Before she could answer to her own confusion, the medical response team burst in. Jim took another step away to leave them room to work while Chapel quickly updated the emergency medics about Spock’s condition.

Tricorders beeped in the now too silent mess hall. Everyone watched, some with grim expressions while others’ faces were stunned.

Jim kept himself still and calm, though he wanted nothing more than to yell some answers out of somebody. That wouldn’t do anyone any good, no matter how much better it would make him feel.

“Heartbeat is within normal parameters,” murmured a medic. 

“Neural activity is high but dropping,” said the second medic. “We need to get him to the medical bay for deeper scans.” 

The medics quickly determined that it was safe to move Spock and they loaded the boy onto a stretcher. Everyone got out of their way as they carefully carried Spock out of the mess.

Jim stopped by the com and opened a line to the bridge. 

“This is the captain. Order Dr. McCoy to return to the Enterprise and to the medical bay as soon as possible,” he ordered swiftly. He didn’t even wait for the acknowledging ‘aye’ before he ran out.

He had promised Spock he wouldn’t leave him alone. He wasn’t going to break his promise to the kid within twenty-fours hours of making it.

There was no room for him in the turbolift, so he ran to the second nearest one. He hit the same emergency override the medics would have used to get him directly to the medical bay’s deck without a single stop. 

When the lift doors opened to let him out, he ran.  
*-*-*-* 

First thing Jim did after he reached the medical bay was to tuck himself out of the way of the doctors and nurses who were rushing about. The second thing he did was mentally run over every curse word he knew, in every language he knew. It took several minutes before he started to repeat himself. The third thing he did was very carefully keep himself from shaking or yelling for answers from the young doctor in charge of Spock. 

The doctor, named M’Benga, had just been recently snatched up by Bones from a medical base and Jim trusted he had to be very good at his job for Bones to want him so badly. Jim remembered how much Bones had gloated when the approval for the transfer had come through as the young doctor had an expertise in Vulcan physiology from working in a Vulcan hospital during his residency. Apparently, there had been another CMO who’d wanted M’Benga and Bones had won the right recruit him in a game of poker.

Jim had teased Bones for days that it was his concern for Spock’s health that had made him seek out the young doctor for his medical bay. McCoy insisted that it had nothing to do with the pointy-eared bastard, it was just that M’Benga was a genius in with multiple degrees that rounded out the fields of expertise of his doctors.

Jim knew that M’Benga was the best possible person to treat Spock. It didn’t stop him from wishing that Bones was in his place, though.

As if in answer to his silent desire for his best friend, McCoy walked into sickbay. 

“What the hell happened?” he demanded. 

“Bones!” Jim called, incalculably relieved. 

“Jim! Why‘d you call me -” McCoy cut himself off as he saw Spock. The boy looked paler and smaller than he should, flat on his back on the bio-bed. “Oh, _damn._ ” he said softly. “ _Goddamn_ , what happened to him?”

“I don‘t know,” Jim said tightly. “He just fell over.”

“M‘Benga, what‘s his status?” demanded McCoy stepping next to the young man. 

“Doctor McCoy, Mr. Spock’s vitals are strong,” said M’Benga, his voice a soft rumble. “His neural scans show a drop in the activity of his neural transmitters in his brain.”

“What‘s the cause?” asked McCoy, leaning over to look swiftly over the readout of the biobed.

Jim bit his lower lip to keep in his own line of questioning.

“From the scans, I‘d say his gone into telepathic shock. Mind shock as some call it,” answered M’Benga.

“What?!” yelped Jim, unable to hold back. “From what? He wasn’t even touching anyone at the time!”

“Touch wouldn’t be necessary, captain. Sir, I‘d say it was the result of a broken mental link,” said M’Benga.

McCoy frowned. “I agree. I saw similar readings from the Vulcans following the planet’s destruction. Sarek‘s readings, alone, were pretty severe.”

Jim choked back his protest. Spock was still unconscious. It wasn’t like he could hear what they were saying.

“But Spock‘s own reaction wasn‘t nearly this strong at the time,” said McCoy, in confusion. “He certainly didn‘t fall unconscious. That I wouldn‘t have missed or forgotten about that‘s for damn sure.”

“I do have theory about that, sir,” said M’Benga. “His youth, as well as his lack of his older memories pretty much indicate that the mental training that Spock had later in life is no longer available to him. So, the loss of the mental link would have had that much greater impact without those mental tools to soften the blow.”

McCoy and Jim frowned at this.

“He said the name T‘Pring, just before he fell over,” Jim volunteered. “It‘s a name that he‘s never mentioned before.”

“It‘s not in his medical records that he had a link to anyone by that name, either,” said McCoy.

“It‘s doubtful that it would be, sir,” said M’Benga. “Vulcans consider it a private matter. Information is rarely released outside the family, or to Vulcan healers.”

Both McCoy and Jim gave him confused looks.

Doctor M’Benga didn’t sigh but he gave the impression that he rather wanted to. 

“Vulcans, in order to survive certain biological necessities,” said M’Benga slowly, “chose to pair off their children at the age of seven in mental links that eventually grow into mental bonds - marriage bonds. These mental connections are what that bring the pair together at the appropriate time.”

“Age seven,” Jim said. “Spock had jumped to age seven shortly before he collapsed.”

M’Benga nodded in acknowledgement. “Then that sounds like that‘s what happened.”

“Will he wake up on his own?” asked Jim, his voice tight with hope.

“If we had a Vulcan healer aboard we could wake Mr. Spock up right now,” said M’Benga. “But because we don‘t have one, we‘ll need to wait for him to come out of it. His neural readings will stabilize shortly as he gets over the shock of the sudden loss of the mental link. He‘ll wake up after that happens which should be in a couple of hours.”

Jim breathed out in overwhelming relief. Muscles that had been knotted in tension finally loosened in relaxation.

“Thank God,” said McCoy. “I swear the kid is making me gray before my time. And here I thought it would be you who did that to me, Jim.”

Jim shot him an annoyed look, still not feeling like joking around. 

McCoy shook his head in silent apology. 

“Thank you, Doctor M‘Benga,” Jim said.

The young doctor smiled at his captain and nodded before he left McCoy and Jim alone at the foot of Spock‘s bio-bed. 

“He gave you quite a scare didn‘t he, Jim?” McCoy asked softly. 

Jim gave him a weak smile. “I don‘t think that my heart started beating again until I heard he‘d be alright.”

They both looked down at Spock. The color had come back into his face and he now looked like he was sleeping though he still looked strained.

“Kids will do that to you,” said McCoy, his voice heavy with understanding. 

Jim just nodded in agreement. 

“Come on, Jim. You look like you need a break. We‘ll stay in my office, I‘ll brief you on what‘s gone down on the planet since the last update and you can watch me drink some of that Saurian brandy I‘ve been saving,” said McCoy.

“Watch you?” Jim grumbled. “You‘re not going to give me any? That hurts Bones.”

“Not as bad as it‘ll hurt you if you drink alcohol with your liver recovering,” scolded McCoy.

Jim followed McCoy into the office and sat across from his desk. The angle was perfect for him to still keep an eye out on Spock through the transparent aluminum wall. McCoy messed around with a series of bottles, making clinking noises until he pulled out his bottle of Saurian brandy and crystal tumbler.

“Ah, now we’re talking,” said McCoy, in satisfaction. “This is the good stuff.”

Jim made a face at him. “If you‘re going to drink, go ahead. Just don‘t gloat at me. My doctor is cruel and refuses to let me have a drop.”

“Too bad, your doctor sounds like a real hardass,” said McCoy with a smirk. 

Jim smiled amused at last by that line. “That he is but the best doctor in all the Federation.”

McCoy raised his tumbler up to toast this statement, then took a swallow of his drink, his eyes closing in pleasure. His delighted sigh was like twisting the knife.

“Okay! Okay! I get it. It‘s good,” said Jim as he made a face of irritated disgust at McCoy. “Cut it out already.”

McCoy smirked and took another drink, this time without the theatrics. 

“Now, tell me what you know,” demanded Jim.

“It isn‘t much I‘m afraid,” admitted McCoy. 

“How about you start as to why you think you can‘t provide a cure?” asked Jim. 

“That‘s easy enough. The problem - at least from what was able to get from all the technical mumbo jumbo that Kret and Keenser were exchanging,” said McCoy, “is that the technology that makes up the Cub Sphere is more similar to transporter technology than anything else we have in the Federation.”

Jim blinked. “Transporters? Really?”

McCoy nodded and added a grumbling, “I knew those things couldn‘t be trusted.”

“Please, not the transporters are the sign of the Apocalypse speech again,” groaned Jim. He leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. “Not that my asking will actually stop you. Even if I made it an order.” 

“If God meant to us to scatter ourselves into a trillion tiny pieces then he wouldn’t have made us whole in the first place,” argued McCoy. “It goes against the laws of nature!”

“But not against the laws of physics,” teased Jim. “Give it up. You‘re not going to change the acceptance of transporters all on your own.”

“No, but I can give it a good try,” scowled McCoy. 

“Excuse me, Doctor, Captain,” said a female voice. 

They both turned to see Nurse Chapel standing at the office door. She held up the tribble that Jim had left forgotten in the mess. “I believe this is yours.”

“Technically, it belongs to Mr. Scott,” Jim said. “But I think Spock is going to want it back when he wakes up.”

“Why don‘t you put it by him, nurse,” said McCoy. “It won‘t interfere with the scanners and it‘s soothing effects could help the kid.”

“Yes, doctor,” said Chapel.

They watched her stop by the bio-bed and gently tuck the tribble against Spock’s side. They couldn’t hear it trill but they could see the tribble wiggle in delight at its new location.

 _Hopefully some of its happiness will seep through to Spock,_ Jim silently hoped. Until Spock woke up again, there was nothing more than Jim could do for him, no matter how much he wished otherwise.


	5. Chapter 5

“I think that‘s what started the whole mess,” sighed Jim.

“Oh, what do you mean?” asked McCoy. 

“The tribble. I think that it helped Spock age jump. It’s what tipped him over from being six into being seven years old,” said Jim.

“Hmm, not exactly surprising,” said McCoy. “They do have a positive effect on humanoids and vulcanoids. Hell, even grownup Vulcans can‘t resist them for long. Hmmm, now there‘s an idea.”

Jim’s mouth twitched in amusement, “Are you saying that the cure you‘d prescribe to fix Spock is one tribble? Applied what, hourly? Daily?”

McCoy tossed a stylus from his desk at Jim’s head. He grumped, “Don‘t knock it if it works.” 

Jim grinned and caught the stylus. He twirled it between his fingers. “So, what were you saying about the Cub Sphere being similar to transporter technology?”

“Oh, yeah,” said McCoy. “At least that‘s how Lieutenant Keenser explained it.”

“Did he explain what he meant? From how Sulu described the sphere it wasn‘t that big, barely the size of my fist. A transporter takes up an entire room, and that‘s not even taking into account the amount of energy it consumes,” said Jim.

“That‘s where Keenser lost me. From what Sulu told me the Cromticians have a lot of tech that has branched off in different directions than is the usual for most species,” said McCoy. 

Jim nodded. “I read the briefing on them before we arrived at the planet. They‘re a people who can be considered to be a post-warp society. The opposite of a pre-warp planet.”

McCoy frowned, “Really? I thought they didn‘t even have ships.”

Jim gave him a look. “Did you even read the briefing before we got here?”

McCoy crossed his arms. He grumbled, “I was busy. A certain captain nearly died on me and I had to figure out way to patch him together, just to remind you.” 

Jim grinned at him. “Well, Cromticians discovered warp drive several thousands of years ago, but they aren‘t like humans. They came out to space and didn‘t really find anything that held their interest. So, they returned to their planet to spend time searching within themselves for the answers to life. They are explorers of inner space, not outer space.”

“Huh. Smart people. Do you think they take immigrants?” asked McCoy.

“Don‘t even think about it,” Jim mock-scowled. “Anyway, you know the phrase ‘Hell is Other People’?”

“Yeah, only too well,” said McCoy with a sigh.

“Well, they believe the opposite. At least, that’s what the cultural experts were able to put together,” Jim said. “Although, I have to wonder how accurate of a translation they were able to get from the Cromticians. Uhura has already caught quite a few screw-ups in the universal translator.”

“I noticed that,” said McCoy. “She told me that there was an aspect of the language that the translator wasn‘t catching. She figured it out shortly before I came up.”

“What did she find out?” asked Jim, very curious.

“You know these people‘s antennae? The three red ones on the their head?” asked McCoy, instead of answering.

“Yeah,” said Jim with a nod.

“Well, the way that they move those suckers around actually changes the meanings of words,” said McCoy. 

Jim’s eyebrows went up. 

“But-!” McCoy continued. “Only the central one. The two on the sides conveys emotional meanings that way that tone, facial and body language does with a human. At least that‘s how Uhura explained it.”

“That‘s so cool,” said Jim. “I can‘t name a species off the top of my head that does anything like that.”

“Neither could Uhura, and she‘s the communications expert,” said McCoy. He paused to swallow down more of his drink.

“She must be pretty excited to have figured it out,” said Jim. “No one else has caught that about the Cromticians. And the Federation has been in contact with them for a couple of decades now.”

“I think she normally would have been,” admitted McCoy, slowly. “But, considering the circumstance with Spock, she‘s more frustrated about the set-backs than excited about the revelation right now.”

Jim nodded and looked over to Spock. The boy was still on the bio-bed. He hadn’t even twitched.

He understood why Uhura would feel the way she did. He would have to remember to encourage her to write a report about what she’d discovered to Starfleet so that she could get the accolades from being the only one to catch that about the Cromticians. She was the best communications officer in the fleet and he wanted all of Starfleet Command to know it too.

“She‘ll get any wrinkles in the translator straightened out before too long, I‘m sure of it,” said Jim.

“Of that, I have no doubt,” said McCoy, with his drink raised as another toast. He drank the last of the brandy, before putting everything away. He continued, “Keenser said he would need to have greater access to Cromtician technology before he would be able to tell if there was a way to reverse the process and get Spock to age jump all the way to his original self.”

“That‘s good news,” said Jim.

“The only problem is the level of technology,” said McCoy. “Kret said that they don‘t have a reversal machine because there has never been a need for them to have one around for centuries. In fact, they think that the schematics for such a devise are lost or buried in their information database. So, who knows if the Cromticians will be able to help in that regard. Keenser needs to study their technology further before he can even venture a guess of how he‘ll be able to help Spock.”

“In fact, when I left,” continued McCoy, “he was muttering about getting Scotty down there to help him out.”

Jim grimaced. “That‘s going to be a problem. Scotty is wrapped up in keeping the Enterprise going.”

“What?!”

Jim quickly explained. 

McCoy cursed a blue-streak which made Jim’s eyebrows climb towards his hairline. Well, that was impressive. He usually only heard such a fiery diatribe when he was injured on an away mission.

“We could have blown up?” scowled McCoy. “Damn it! I hate space travel.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “Come on, Bones. At most the nacelle would have been damaged and it would have kept us only on impulse power. Several safety features built into the ship would have had to fail for all the Enterprise to have exploded,” said Jim. 

McCoy did not look convinced.

Jim resigned himself to hearing Bones gripping about the hazards of space for who knew how long in foreseeable future.

“So, because of the crappy part we got from the starbase, Scotty needs to be onboard to get the ship repaired. I, sure as hell, can‘t spare him to go down to the planet,” said Jim. He looked out to Spock and added softly, “no matter how much I want to.”

“Aw, Jim,” said McCoy, reading Jim with all the expertise gained from years of friendship. “Don‘t be so hard on yourself.”

Jim was silent.

“You couldn‘t have known that Spock would have a mental link with this T‘Pring girl,” continued McCoy. “It‘s not even in his medical file for godssake.”

“Yeah, and what else could there be that we don‘t know about?” asked Jim in a low voice. “This could have been serious. We were lucky that it wasn‘t. I‘ll need to get a hold of someone who can give us those kind of answers.”

“You want to contact Spock‘s father?” asked McCoy.

“Yeah. I didn‘t before because I was a little worried that he‘d want to take Spock back into his custody,” said Jim. 

“What do you mean?” asked McCoy, quietly.

“I looked it up, after you dropped Spock off in his quarters last night,” said Jim. “The laws about minors are pretty clear. Sarek would have custody of Spock and could demand that we turn him over to him. There‘s no law in place, or even Starfleet procedure, of what to do if an officer is turned into a child. It‘s never happened before.”

“You were worried he‘d take him away,” said McCoy, softly. “You didn‘t tell me that.”

“I didn‘t really want to think about it. There‘s reason I haven‘t yet informed Starfleet of Spock‘s status. I was just betting that we‘d be able to get Spock back before it became necessary,” said Jim. “Then I could just tack on an apology for being so late to update them on what was going on.”

“The old: It’s better to ask forgiveness instead of permission,” said McCoy. He shook his head in amusement. “I swear, Jim. Sometimes I think that‘s your motto. Well, that and ‘Danger? I laugh in the face of danger!’”

“Well, time to laugh in the face of danger again,” said Jim, standing to his feet. “I‘ve got to send Sarek a subspace message about Spock. Keep an eye on Spock for me, will ya? I promised him I wouldn‘t leave him alone, so call me if he starts waking up early. I want to be here when he opens his eyes.”

“You bet I‘ll call. The last thing I want is another Vulcan temper tantrum. Even pint-sized the kid’s got quite an arm on him,” said McCoy, amused. “It took maintenance crews all night to fix it up.”

Jim smirked at him before walking out of his office. He stopped next to Spock and gave the boy a pat on his leg. 

“You‘ll be fine, kid. I won‘t be gone for long.”  
*-*-*-*

Composing the message to Sarek took more time than Jim planned. 

He kept having to delete and start over.

It was because Sarek was one of the few people in existence that actually made him nervous. And not just a few fluttering butterflies in the stomach kind of nervous but cold sweat and blurry vision and heart racing away too fast kind of nervous.

He wasn’t too sure why. It had nothing to do with Sarek being a Vulcan. He rather suspected it had a lot to do with the things he said to Spock on the bridge. 

Jim had treated Spock with cruelty that day, and Spock’s father had heard every vile word he’d said. He’d never meant it, of course. He’d only said those things because it had to be done. It didn’t stop Jim from remembering that he hadn’t exactly made the greatest first impression on the man. And he knew better than to think that simply because he was as emotionally expressive as a stone wall that Sarek didn’t harbor some negative feelings for him.

He’d bet his captaincy that the man didn’t like him one bit.

So, it made him rather twitchy at having to compose a message essentially telling Sarek that he’d broken Spock.

“-and that is why I need to know any information regarding Spock‘s adolescence just so we don‘t get sideswiped by anything else,” Jim said into the audio pickup of the com-unit. 

He swallowed - not nervously! - and tacked on. “At his current rate of age growth we should have Spock back to normal before two weeks are up, at the latest. But since several departments are also looking for a solution, we‘re bound to have him back before the week is over. I don‘t think there‘s any need for you to come here,” And because he wasn’t a complete jerk, he added, “I do think that Spock would appreciate hearing from you. A personal message may help him not feel so isolated. And, um, just to warn you, we haven‘t told him of what happened to Vulcan or his mother.”

He stopped the com-unit from recording and groaned into his hands. He sounded so stiff. 

_Which probably wasn’t a bad thing for a message to a Vulcan,_ Jim thought. 

Sadly, this message was the best of the bunch so it would have to do. 

He quickly added the standard closing notes necessary as the captain and sent it up to Communications so that they could encrypt it to be passed along standard Starfleet subspace channels until it reached Sarek on Earth. 

The Vulcan had resumed his duty as Ambassador to Earth. A position considered all the more important to the Vulcan survivors with so much of their future dependent upon Federation assistance and protection. So at least Jim could be certain that Sarek would get it quickly.

He walked out of the conference room where he’d stopped to compose the message and back to med-bay. As he walked through the halls he gave reassuring nods to the crew. When he walked though the double door of med-bay he found that Spock’s bio-bed was surrounded by nurses and doctors.

For a moment that stretched into an eternity of panic during which Jim thought that something terrible had happened to Spock. 

Then the chuckles and delighted voices pierced through the roaring in his ears. 

“He is so adorable,” said a female nurse. Jim couldn’t identify the speaker through the crowd. 

“Better than when he’s chucking hyposprays at us, that‘s for sure,” said another, male this time. 

“Well, can you blame him? The poor dear had to deal with all those unnecessary tests. You can‘t tell me you wouldn’t have thrown a fit in his place even if you were all grown up.”

That time, Jim recognized Nurse Chapel’s voice.

“Who says I’m talking about Commander Spock?” asked the male, in a teasing voice.

Jim’s eyebrows went up.

“Alright! Break it up,” said McCoy, grumpily and a little embarrassed. “Yes, the hobgoblin is as cute as button. More adorable than a basketful of wide-eyed kittens. Too bad! You all have a job to do. So, hop to it!”

The crowd broke up, revealing McCoy glowering at his staff, standing next to Spock’s bio-bed like a particularly annoyed guardian angel, the kind that smelled of brandy and swore at the drop of a hat.

Jim caught sight of Spock and grinned widely. Well, that explained why the entire medical staff had gone and turned into a mass of adoring, cooing fans. 

Spock was now curled up around the brown tribble. It was purring and pressed to his stomach. Spock also had a fist pressed to his mouth and breathing out his sighing snores. The greatest thing was that his other hand was holding tight onto the sleeve of McCoy’s blue medical shirt.

“Oh, thank god you‘re here, Jim,” said McCoy, turning pleading eyes to his friend. “He won‘t let go of me!”

Jim sniggered, then chuckled before he started laughing loudly. Then he was forced to hold on to this aching sides as he howled with laughter.

“Jim! You bastard! Stop laughing! Get me free!” insisted McCoy.

“Please! Please, someone, anyone tell me you‘ve taken pictures,” Jim wheezed, with a helpless gesture at his friend.

Nurse Chapel smirked from where she stood nearby at an empty bio-bed and waved a PADD in his direction. “I got them right here, captain.”

“Damn it, nurse! You delete those right this minute,” snarled McCoy.

“Belay that order,” said Jim, grinning. “If fact, go and send me copies of them to my personal message account.”

“Aye, sir,” said Chapel, grinning right back and cheerfully skirted away before McCoy could shout any other orders.

“I hate you, Jim,” said McCoy, his eyes narrow and his tone dark. “I hate you so much.”

Jim grinned harder. “Want to tell me how you got… caught like that?”

“I was checking his readouts since he age-jumped by a few hours, nothing major. I was going to remove the tribble to see if it had caused the jump when he grabbed me,” said McCoy. He glowered down at the peacefully sleeping Spock. “Kid hasn‘t let go since and every time I try to get free - he - he whimpers at me!”

“I guess that even asleep, Spock knows you make an awesome teddy bear,” teased Jim.

The outrage in Bones’ eyes nearly sent Jim off into another laughing fit. Choking back the laughter he stepped up to his friend. 

McCoy glowered at him.

Jim shook his head and stepped next to McCoy, he patted Spock’s hand then gently pried at the boy’s fingers. 

In his sleep Spock’s eyebrows scrunched together. But he didn’t let loose a sound so Jim continued, adding a tug of McCoy’s sleeve to get it free. When he nearly loosed the entire small hand, Spock shifted grips so that he was holding onto Jim. 

“Oh, thank God!” said McCoy. “I thought I‘d be stuck next to the kid for hours.”

Jim chuckled. “Well, it seems like I‘ve been captured in your place. The least you could do Bones, is get me a chair.”

McCoy came back with the same chair that Jim had been using in his office. Jim grabbed it and flipped it around so he was sitting on it backwards. 

He gave Bones and Spock an affectionate look. Then he asked, “So, how much longer until he wakes up?”

“Sooner than we‘ve figured,” said McCoy, looking over the readouts with a thoughtful expression. “I think that the tribble did help. The tiny jump he did has stabilized his neural readings. He should be awaking up any moment now.”

“That‘s good,” said Jim, and gave Spock’s hand a light squeeze. He tried to send encouragement through to him, not that he knew how much Spock was getting while unconscious.

“How did the message go?” asked McCoy, leaning on the bio-bed and out of reach of Spock’s free hand.

“Terrible, of course. I never know how to talk to Sarek,” admitted Jim with a sigh. 

“I don‘t blame you,” said McCoy. “Vulcans are hard to talk to.”

Jim quirked his mouth in a self-deprecating twist. “It‘s not the Vulcan thing that gets to me. More like the Spock‘s father thing.”

“Sorry, you‘re on your own there,” said McCoy. 

“Thanks, Bones,” said Jim, dryly.

McCoy rolled his eyes. “As if I could help, I have a hard enough time talking to Spock and at least the green-blooded bastard is only half-Vulcan. And you‘ve witnessed the rows we get into.”

“I have some of my favorite ones saved!” Jim said, amused.

McCoy rolled his eyes again. “Of course, you do.”

As if he was aware that the were talking about him, Spock twitched, mumbling nonsense under his breath. 

McCoy and Jim watched with interest as Spock’s eyelids fluttered, then dazed brown eyes were slowly revealed to their intent gaze.

“Hey, Spock,” said Jim softly. “Welcome back, kiddo.”

Spock blinked then looked around the med-bay. McCoy grabbed one of the medical tricorders and started scanning Spock. Jim ignored him as he was jostled. 

“Did I leave the ship? I have no such recollection,” said Spock. He sat up and the tribble trilled as it was dislodged from it’s warm place. 

Jim caught it with his free hand before it tumbled to the deck and returned it to Spock’s side. “You didn‘t leave, Spock. You just made us rather concerned when you fell unconscious in the mess.” 

Spock blinked again, “Jim, I do not recall doing that.” His eyes were wide.

“I‘m not surprised,” said Jim. “The Doctor M‘Benga said you‘d gone into telepathic shock. Does the name T‘Pring ring any bells?”

The light puzzlement that had been forming on Spock’s face cleared up.

“Who is she, Spock?” Jim asked. 

“She is to be my wife,” answered Spock.

Jim stared at him. His face boggled.

McCoy dropped the tricorder on his foot. Then he hopped on the other foot as he swore, “Goddamnit! You can‘t just say something like that without warning, man!”

Spock turned his eyes from Jim to watch McCoy limp over to where the tricorder had bounced still swearing under his breath. 

“I didn‘t know that Vulcans picked their spouses so early,” said Jim, hesitantly. What kind of biological necessities did M’Benga mean when he was explaining Spock’s condition? And why did he have a feeling that he wouldn’t get any answers out of Spock? Jim made mental note to interrogate M’Benga about Vulcans much later on. There were obviously quite a few gaps in the cultural database regarding Vulcans.

“I did not make the choice. My parents chose T‘Pring for me,” said Spock calmly. 

Jim and McCoy exchanged a startled look over Spock’s head. 

“I know she is dead. May I inquire as to when her death occurred?” continued Spock. “I do not have the memories of the exact time it happened. I only know that she is no longer at the other end of the mental link.”

Jim patted the hand he was holding in reassurance. He could feel the tension in those small fingers even if he couldn’t see it in Spock’s face or voice.

 _His control is improving,_ thought Jim. _Damn, that’s the last thing we need._

“I’m sorry, I don‘t know exactly how she died,” said Jim, slowly. Which wasn’t a lie at all as he didn’t know if T’Pring had even been alive when Vulcan was sucked into a black hole.

Then tribble trilled in a high-pitched voice. 

Spock began to pet it softly in order to calm it down and the tension that Jim could feel in him relaxed as the tribble worked its magic. He was quiet for too long. 

It made Jim and McCoy exchange looks again, this time they were concerned.

“Come on, Spock,” said Jim, after clearing his throat. “Let Bones clear you, then we‘ll go get you that change of clothes like we planned to.”

“Very well, Jim,” said Spock, sitting up very straight on the bio-bed.

“Jim,” protested McCoy. “He still needs monitoring.”

“I left the medical tricorder in Spock‘s quarters. Can‘t I just use that?” asked Jim. “I‘ll scan him for you and send you the data. Trust me, we could both use a break from the medical bay. We‘ve been in here way too long these past few days.”

McCoy scowled but helplessly softened under the assault of two pairs of silently pleading eyes. 

“Alright. First let M‘Benga check Spock over. If he says there‘s no need for him to stay in med-bay, I‘ll release him. But only then!” said McCoy grumpily. “M‘Benga! Now where the hell did he go?” McCoy left to track down the doctor, leaving Jim to watch over Spock. 

Considering, that he’d just woken up, the kid looked tired. 

Jim gave his hand another squeeze and Spock looked down to see where his hand was holding tight to Jim’s. He stiffened and extracted his hand. 

“Hey,” said Jim, quietly. “Are you alright?”

“My condition is healthy,” said Spock. 

Jim rolled his eyes. Now, that was the kind of response he would normally get from the grownup version of Spock. “That‘s not what I meant, Spock. And you know it,” said Jim. No way did Spock not know it. He had a human mother. “You trust me, right?”

Spock nodded slowly. 

“Then how are you? Really,” said Jim. “I won‘t tell anyone what you tell me.”

Spock’s head dropped. “I am concerned…”

“Yeah,” Jim said encouragingly. 

“I am concerned about the physical health of my father and my mother,” said Spock reluctantly. 

_Oh shit._ It seemed the question that Jim had been scared of hearing from Spock was finally out of the boy’s mouth. 

“Do you know their status, Jim?” asked Spock.

Jim dropped his own head down so that he was also looking at the deck. 

_How can I answer this? How can I tell the kid the truth?_

He couldn’t. But he couldn’t lie to him either.

“Spock,” he said, finally looking up. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Spock, I can‘t tell you that.”

Spock’s shoulders hunched in as if he was expecting a physical blow.

It made Jim’s heart ache. _God, I now feel like the worst kind of jerk._

“Very well,” said Spock. His voice was calm and flat.

He could practically feel Spock mentally pulling away and locking himself down. And Jim had no idea how to fix it.

“I called your father,” Jim blurted out. _Oh fuck. I didn’t mean to say that._

Spock’s head came up and his eyes were wide in surprise.

Jim nearly squirmed as those brown eyes stared up at him. 

“You called my father?” Spock nearly squeaked. 

It was so adorable that Jim involuntarily smiled. 

“Yeah, well when you fell unconscious you really made me worried,” said Jim. “And since you can‘t remember what else could hit you like that until you age jump, which would be too late anyway, I‘d thought he could help.”

Jim could tell that Spock was trying to picture Jim and Sarek interacting and the mental image was not computing.

“He should be getting back to me before too long,” said Jim. “Can you wait until you talk to him?”

“Yes, Jim. I can wait,” said Spock.

M’Benga walked up to them with McCoy at his side. He greeted Spock and then quickly read over the readouts.

“Spock is more than free to leave medical bay,” said M’Benga. “Your mind is recovering very fast. I‘d say that the age jumps, as Doctor McCoy called them, are helping. However, I do recommend that you meditate for at least an hour, as soon as you leave.”

Spock nodded in agreement. 

“Also, you need more sleep,” continued M’Benga. “At least a couple hours.”

“I do not require sleep,” protest Spock, his nose scrunching.

“I‘ll see to it,” said Jim, suppressing a laugh at Spock‘s disgust.

“Unconsciousness doesn‘t count as sleep,” said M’Benga to Jim now. “Sleep will let his mind heal from the stress of the broken link.”

Spock almost frowned. 

“I need a nap too,” Jim told him.

Spock’s shot him a sharp look, took in Jim‘s tired face, then nodded in acceptance.

“Very well,” said Spock.

“Then you can go,” said M’Benga.

McCoy cut in, “And be sure to run those scans, Jim. Same deal as before. Every two hours.”

“Yes!” said Jim. He stood up and flashed McCoy a bright smile. 

“Get out of here before I change my mind,” grumbled McCoy. 

Spock hopped out of bio-bed and started walking out of the medical bay. Jim followed with a shrug at Bones. 

He caught up with Spock in the hall.

“When will my father return your message?” asked Spock.

“Communications estimated he should be getting it in a couple of hours,” Jim said. “The Enterprise may be in Federation territory but we‘re still pretty far away from Earth.”

“His location is on Earth?” asked Spock.

“He‘s Vulcan‘s Ambassador to Earth,” confirmed Jim as they walked into the turbolift. 

Spock looked more relaxed. He confirmed, “It is a position that he has held for 23.32 years.”

“He must be very good at it,” said Jim.

“Yes,” said Spock, with a flicker of pride in his eyes. 

The lift doors opened to the deck that held the senior officers quarters. Yeoman Rand was waiting for them at the entrance to Spock’s rooms. 

“Yeoman, how did you find me?” asked Jim, impressed. They’d just left medical bay. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes and she’d already tracked him down. Damn, there were times that he thought that she would make a better security officer than being stuck as his assistant.

“I‘ve got the hourly update, sir,” she said. “And I‘m afraid, how I found you is my secret.”

“You have been bugged, don‘t you Rand? Did you put electrical trackers into my uniform?” joked Jim, with a grin. 

“I can‘t say one way or another, captain,” said Rand, her blue eyes amused. She held out his PADD.

Spock watched all this with a raised eyebrow. 

“Go on ahead of me, Spock,” said Jim. “This‘ll just take a second.”

“I will start meditating,” sad Spock and walked into his rooms. 

Jim scanned the report. It had everything that McCoy had already told him, even down to Keenser’s request to have Scotty go down to the planet to provide some help. He signed the report and handed it back to Rand. 

She’d barely taken a couple of steps before Jim called her back. “Yes, sir?”

“I want to add some things to the report,” said Jim. He quickly inputted an order to Spock’s second in command of the science department for him to get together a team of specialists to head down to Cromtic. 

The science department was facing the least demands right now, well other than covering for Spock. Jim rather thought that they would jump at the chance in order to be helpful. Especially if they got Spock back. Jim knew how much the entire department liked their commanding officer. 

On a hunch, he also added a request for Scotty to send down the best transporter tech - other than himself - that he had in the Engineering Department.

Rand took the altered PADD and left with a nod. 

Jim walked into Spock’s quarters to find the kid sitting on a mat with his eyes closed, his back ramrod straight. His face was expressionlessly smooth. Clearly no one was home.

 _Meditating,_ Jim guessed. Just like M’Benga had ordered. 

Jim found the medical tricorder where he’d tucked it next to the com-unit and scanned Spock. The kid would be meditating for an hour, so he sat at the com-unit to double check that Chekov had done as he’d requested. The changes in the computer were obvious. Jim was pleased that when he tried to find out about Vulcan the computer rerouted him to information that was released just a couple days before the destruction of the planet. Only, the stardates on all the articles were updated. If fact, even with a deep look in the archives Jim couldn’t tell that there was any discrepancies.

 _Good job, Chekov!_ thought Jim, pleased.

He turned back to Spock and thought about how much harder everything was going to get as he got older before mentally shrugging. All he could do is face whatever Spock threw at him without flinching. 

He’d already tossed Jim so many curveballs that if he really tried to plan everything Jim thought that he would just end up tangling himself up. Jim had to trust himself to make the right choices. And god, how did he hope that keeping Spock from finding out about his mother was one of those right choices.

That’s when the tribble trilled from somewhere in the room.

Spock didn’t even twitch. It trilled again with greater urgency. Jim rolled his eyes and got up to find it before it drove him crazy with its calls.


	6. Chapter 6

Jim ended up reading on the com-unit for the next hour while the tribble purred at his side as he absentmindedly petted it.

He stopped absorbing information about the physical adolescent development of Vulcans only twice. Once, when it reminded him to replicate a pair of pajamas for Spock. 

He was rather proud of his creation. It was fuzzy, blue - the same shade as the science uniform top - and covered in silver starships that looked a lot like the Enterprise. It would be rather on the large side on Spock but Jim wanted it to last at least a few age jumps. He left it on Spock’s bed for when the boy pulled himself out of his meditative state.

And the second time he was forced to stop his reading was when the com beeped with a report. It listed the names of science officers that were chosen for the away team to head down to the planet. It also included Scotty’s pick of the transporter technicians. Scotty had also stuck some suggests for Keenser. Jim skimmed it quickly and felt nothing but approval for them.

Jim stifled a yawn, and touched the screen to advance pages of the report when a soft shuffle made him look over to Spock. 

The boy was on his feet, carefully folding the mat over into a square. He moved the thickly woven black mat over to the room’s storage closet.

“Did the meditation help you out, Spock?” asked Jim. 

“Yes, Jim,” said Spock. “Doctor M‘Benga was correct in his assessment of its necessity.” 

“So, you feel better?” pressed Jim. He needed to hear it.

“My conditional is optimal,” said Spock. 

_Good enough,_ thought Jim.

“We should follow the rest of the doctor‘s orders and take a nap,” Jim told him. “I replicated some pajamas for you to sleep in.”

Spock nodded, picked up the pajamas without a word and vanished into the restroom.

Jim grinned and set the computer to record again with the same order to save the video files to his personal accounts. Jim returned to the report, trying to think of anything he wanted to add before he okayed the away team. 

He was still thinking of it when Spock silently walked out. 

The sight of Spock in the footie pajamas nearly killed Jim from the effort of keeping in his delighted laughter. He also had to resist the urge to call Spock adorable. He rather suspected that if he did then he wouldn’t be able to talk Spock into wearing anything else that he picked out.

 _Bones is never going to believe this!_ And Jim couldn’t help but be glad he was getting pictorial evidence. 

“Jim,” said Spock, in that firm voice that Jim was more used to hearing in lectures from his first officer than when said first officer was wearing adorable fuzzy PJs.

“Yeah, Spock?” Jim asked, cautiously. 

“You also stated your own need for further sleep,” said Spock, his brown eyes determined. “I interrupted the full cycle of your rest period before, and therefore you need to make up for the lack.”

Stunned, Jim stared down at him.

“Okay, okay,” he finally submitted, helpless to resist that small face when it was set at stubborn. “Just let me finish this and I‘ll get changed as well.”

Spock nodded, but kept standing next to Jim, his hands tucked back in the usual ‘at ease’ position that grown-up Spock would normally take. Jim wondered if Spock had picked it up from seeing another officer use it, or if it was just a habit of muscle memory.

He was also bemused at the realization from that pose that Spock wasn’t going to move until Jim got himself ready for bed too. 

He had to bite his grin back and finished signing off on the report. He ended up not thinking of anything else to add. It seemed like Keenser and everyone else were doing a perfectly good job on their own. 

He was just about to log off the computer when the hourly report that Rand would normally have carried to him arrived. He looked it over quickly, and also signed off on it, with a codicil to his previous orders. Since he was going off-duty the reports would have to go the current officer in charge on the bridge. 

He finally logged off. Jim gave the tribble to Spock and picked up a clean set of sleeping clothes from the kit. Apparently, his yeoman had brought him a new set of everything at some point. 

It never failed to impress him how she was always on the ball.

“Okay, now I‘m done,” said Jim and smiled at Spock. 

Spock nodded and carried the tribble to the cage that had also appeared during their absence. The tribble made an unhappy noise was it put in it, but unlike before it quickly settled down when Spock gave it a final pat.

Jim went through the regular routine he would normally use for a full nights sleep and came out of the bathroom. 

Spock looked at him and his expression became somewhat puzzled. 

“What is the significance of the phrase ‘Save a Starship. Ride a Captain’?” he asked. 

Jim paused in mid-step and looked down at his own chest .

The sleeping shirt he wore had been a gag-gift from Bones. He’d given to him when the news had broken that Jim was going to be given the captaincy of the Enterprise. Jim loved it, and had happily worn it every day for week until Bones had threatened him with a hypo and nearly every night for the last six months. It was perfect to sleep in because it was made with real cotton, and insanely comfortable. 

“It‘s a joke,” said Jim, suddenly wondering how he was going to explain the birds and the bees to Spock. 

Forget it. He wasn’t going there. 

If Spock had questions, then the kid would just have to wait until he age jumped and got the answers back all on his own. Or he’d make Bones answer them. That sounded like a great plan. He’d have to remember to capture the look on Bones’ face if Spock ever asked.

Fortunately, for Jim’s peace of mind at dealing with the disturbing idea of having to explain sex to a child that wasn’t even his own, Spock just nodded in acceptance of his explanation.

_Thank god, that it is so easy to get him to dismiss almost anything as just being some weird human thing!_

“The first step to achieving restful slumber is to get into bed,” Spock said firmly. 

Jim nodded. “That‘s true, so any reason you aren‘t in bed yet?”

“I will ensure that you are probably secured,” said Spock. 

Bemused, Jim realized that Spock intended to see that Jim went to bed first before headed for his own. 

“Alright, Spock. You win,” said Jim, with a grin and a fond head shake. He crawled into bed and tucked the covers up to his chin. 

Spock looked him over intently, as if to double check that Jim had done it right. 

Jim had to bite his lower lip to keep in his laughter.

He knew that Spock - grown Spock - had a mother henning habit that he refused to admit to possessing. Jim just hadn’t thought it was a trait that Spock had apparently been born with. 

Spock actually tugged Jim’s blanket up a bit before was satisfied. Then he smoothed out a few wrinkles before he nodded, as if pleased with the sight.

And that made a nice glow of delight now settle in Jim’s chest, right next to the bubbling laughter.

“Thanks, Spock,” said Jim, as he relaxed. 

“You are welcome,” said Spock, his voice calm “I also believe that one of the standard parting greeting used by humans when going to sleep is sleep well. Sleep well, Jim.”

“Sweet dreams, kid,” said Jim. He told the computer to dim the lights and watched as Spock crawled into his own bed, lay on is back, his arms straight at his sides and was out like a switch has been flipped.

Jim watched him sleep for a few minutes, too delighted by the sight to turn away before his own tiredness dragged him under into dreamland.  
*-*-*-*

When the alarm woke him up, Jim grumbled and nearly fell out onto the deck as a blanket caught on his foot.

He quickly turned off the alarm and scanned Spock with the tricorder. The data, which had quickly grown familiar with such repetitions, was reading normal for the boy. Which was very reassuring as far as Jim was concerned.

It looked like M’Benga’s evaluation about him needing sleep had been right on the nose.

He was just sending the data over to medical when Spock began to whimper. 

Jim’s head snapped up at the low pained sound. 

He stared at Spock until another piteous noise made him leapt over to the boy’s bed. 

Spock was curled on his side, his covered feet popped out from under the covers of the blanket. His face was hidden into a pillow, as if even asleep he was trying to hide his own reactions.

Spock whimpered again. 

Damn if that wasn’t one of the most heartbreaking sounds that Jim had ever heard. No wonder Bones hadn’t had the heart to escape his grip in sickbay. It would have taken a harder heart than the marshmallow center of his best friend to have broken away from the kid.

“Shhh,” said Jim, gently. He rubbed Spock’s back in gentle circles, the fuzzy blue of the pajamas felt soft and warm against his palm.

Spock just burrowed his head even deeper into the pillow and whimpered again. 

“Its okay, Spock,” said Jim. “You‘re alright. Everything‘s alright.” He kept up the soothing circles. 

Even asleep, Spock’s hand found him with uncanny accuracy, and held his hand in a tight clasp. Yet it did the trick because Spock sighed in relief and relaxed. 

Jim watched him, feeling relieved that the whimpering had stopped but when he tried to pull away, Spock just tightened his grip.

“Aw, crap,” whispered Jim, then he chuckled at himself. He was glad that Bones wasn’t likely to walk into anytime soon. Then, he’d be the one who would end up laughing his ass off. Resigned to his capture, at least until Spock woke up and granted him his freedom, Jim sat on the deck and rested his head on top of the bed covers. 

Might as well get a bit more sleep while he got the chance.  
*-*-*-*

Jim woke up again to a small hot hand gently petting his hair in long, tender strokes.

Surprised, he jerked his head up and caught Spock snatching his hand back, a flash of embarrassment crossing his small face. Spock’s face quickly regained its stoic expression but there was a flush of green to his cheeks that rather amused Jim.

He certainly had never caught Spock blushing over anything before.

“Hey, Spock. Did you sleep well?” Jim asked, smiling softly and rubbing at his eyes to clear the sleep grit. 

“Yes, my sleep period was satisfactory,” said Spock, coolly. His expression was calm, as if he hadn’t just been caught petting Jim’s head. 

“That‘s good,” Jim said. “You were having a nightmare earlier.”

“Is that why you slept at my bedside?” asked Spock, staring Jim with understanding in his eyes.

“Well, yeah,” said Jim. “You needed me. I wasn‘t about to leave.”

“I was under the impression that such a task fell only to one‘s mother,” said Spock. “And not to one‘s captain.”

“Or it can fall to a friend,” corrected Jim. 

Spock’s eyes widened. “We are friends?”

The incredulity in his tone made Jim’s smile widen. “Of course we are, Spock.”

Spock’s eyes lit up with inner delight, even though his expression stayed still. Jim could tell that he was pleased. 

Incredibly pleased. And then there were the smallest twitches at the corners of Spock’s mouth - as if his joy had simply become too much for him to contain - that made Jim think that Spock was fighting back a large and brilliant smile. 

Jim blinked and suddenly Spock’s pajamas fit him perfectly. Another age jump. 

It made Jim beam his own smile right back at Spock.

Spock’s head dropped and Jim could see the flush on his cheeks had darkened. 

“I have not had the acquaintance of anyone that would fit that title previous to our acquaintance,” said Spock, his voice almost… shy.

Now, Jim’s eyes were the ones to widen. Spock had never had a friend before? Not even one? 

That didn’t sound right. The kid was adorable, bright and sweet. He should be beating other kids off him with a stick just to get a moment’s peace. 

Then Jim remembered that Spock had grown up on Vulcan and gone to school among Vulcan kids. Maybe that was the difference. And then there was the added factor that Spock was _unique_ , part-human. On a planet that didn’t have that many non-Vulcans that lived on it.

It would have been different on Earth, with so many humans used to non-humans living next to them as neighbors. Humans, who grew up as children attending classes with two or three or more other species sitting next to them. Among them, Spock would have been the kind of kid that would have been pretty popular in school.

The kind of boy that would have been chased around the playground by giggling girls and boys who wanted to kiss him. Or tickle him, or just touch his pointed ears.

Jim knew, because he’d been both the chaser and chased in those play school games. If Spock had been in his elementary school at any point, Jim would have stolen a kiss for certain. And he would have had a lot of competition from other kids. Even as standoffish as Spock was, the ears alone would have made him popular.

 _I guess, Vulcans have different standards for cuteness. If it is anything they even care about at all in their kids,_ , thought Jim. He wondered at the loneliness of Spock’s childhood if he hadn’t even had a casual friend at his age. Well, there was nothing he could to do about it. All he could do was prove to the kid that he had a friend now, and he would have one as he grew up to adulthood again.

Which reminded him.

“How old are you now, Spock?” asked Jim.

“I am 8 years, 7 months, 2 week and 1.05 days,” answered Spock. 

_Nearly nine. Well, that’s pretty big jump._

A little bit more and Spock would hit the 1/3rd mark on the way back to his real age. That was a great sign. It jumped up his time table by a lot. If this rate kept up, they would he able to have Spock back before the mission to Cromtic was scheduled to be over. And that was without factoring in any results that the away teams would put together.

Jim stood up and winced at the crick in his neck. He straightened his shoulders and rolled his neck to loosen the muscles. Then he rubbed it when that didn’t work.

“Exactly how long was I asleep?” asked Jim. He shouldn’t have developed such a deep crick in his neck just from an hour asleep at Spock’s side.

“I have been awake 47 minutes, and 12 seconds,” said Spock. “I do not know when you returned to sleep.”

Which meant that is Spock had woken up at the two hour sleep time like they’d planned, Jim had gotten an nearly an extra hour of sleep.

Jim shot him a bemused look. “Why didn‘t you wake me up?”

Spock sat up and looked up a him calmly. “You needed more sleep than I therefore I did not think that it would be beneficial to interrupt your rest.”

“You must have been bored,” said Jim. 

“I mentally reviewed my latest lesson in astronomy,” said Spock. “I did not require entertainment.”

“Okay,” Jim nodded. “Well, I‘m awake now. Is there anything you would like to do?”

But before Spock could answer his question, the computer beeped. 

“Hold on,” said Jim. He sat in front of the computer and opened up the message. He stiffened as he read it. 

“Hey, Spock,” he said. “Your father just got a hold of the ship.”

Spock froze. “My father is in contact with the ship?”

“Yeah, we need to get over to one of the conference rooms and you can talk to him,” said Jim.

Spock didn’t exactly run, but he definitely hurried getting out of bed and walking into the bathroom. 

A slit second later he came out, his face tense. “I do not have any appropriate attire.”

“Oh, sorry! It’s my fault!” said Jim. “I forgot to replicate you something.”

The expression on Spock’s face was nearly anxious as Jim replicated him another and bigger Starfleet uniform. 

“This is probably the best thing to wear,” said Jim. 

Not arguing, Spock grabbed him and disappeared back into the restroom. 

Jim tried not to panic. 

But how in the hell had Sarek gained access the emergency channels that Starfleet used for direct communication with its starships? Boosting the signal for direct - real time - talking took a lot of power. Just a few minutes required the kind of power consumption that would power the Enterprise for an hour through warp. 

It was the reason that Starfleet only ever used them for emergencies, otherwise they’d just send orders. If questions needed to be exchanged then it took time for the signals to bounce all the way to Earth and out again. 

Sarek must have used his position as the Vulcan Ambassador, or pulled some favors, or even just plain scared some poor admiral. 

He’d hoped that Sarek would just send a message. And now Jim had to talk to him directly. Jim wondered if it was too late to convince Bones to declare that he needed to stay in sickbay for observation and therefore he couldn’t take a call. 

Somehow he didn’t think that Bones would let him get away with it. Or let him forget that he asked in the first place.

Spock came out, wearing his uniform, his hair looked neat and tidy as always, and even his expression had acquired an extra polish of controlled stoicism. 

“I recommend that you also change out of your sleep-ware and into a uniform,” said Spock. 

Jim glanced down at his sleeping clothes. 

Somehow, he didn’t think that a gag-shirt and flannel pants would impress Sarek. 

“Right,” agreed Jim. He swallowed hard and hurried himself to dig out a clean uniform.

 _He absolutely **hated** talking to Sarek._  
*-*-*-*

They silently agreed to sit next to each other in the conference room, even though the video pick-up for the room had a wider camera angle than the standard com-units, and covered the whole table.

Jim very carefully kept from biting his nails and Spock kept himself from bouncing in excitement. Though, Jim could feel him moving his feet back and forth. Jim could also tell that he was looking forward to talking to his father from the rapid way he talked with that edge of excitement that he couldn’t quite keep out of his voice 

No matter how he felt about talking to Sarek, Jim couldn’t also help but feel happy that Spock was getting this chance to talk to one of his parents. 

There were few things as universally important as family.

“Send the feed through to us,” Jim said, speaking into the com-unit and toward the officer at the communication station.

“Aye, sir. Piping in the feed from Starfleet headquarters down to you.”

The screen on the com-unit went black, before a window opened to show Sarek looking severely at them. 

“Hello, Ambassador,” Jim said politely.

“Father,” said Spock, in the most toneless voice that Jim had heard from him yet. He also held up his hand with his fingers parted in the Vulcan gesture of greeting.

“My greetings, Captain Kirk,” said Sarek. Then Sarek returned his son’s salute before there was an imperceptive softening in his face. “I am most pleased to see you are in good health, my son.”

“As am I to your health, father,” said Spock, lowering his and. “Is mother with you?”

Jim bit his lower lip and held in his panic. Vulcans did not lie. What would Sarek say?

“Your mother is not with me on Earth,” answered Sarek. 

_Oh, thank God._

“But that is not why I have contacted you. I wanted to verify the captain‘s report on the status of your age regression,” said Sarek.

“I understand,” said Spock, there was a tiny slump to his shoulders. 

Jim resisted the urge to pat him on the back. He didn’t think that Spock would appreciate the gesture in front of his father. 

“Captain, I need to speak with my son in a private conversation,” said Sarek. 

Jim straightened. “Alright, Ambassador.” He leaned over to Spock and whispered, “I‘ll be right outside.”

Spock just nodded and Jim went to stand outside the door. He stayed out of the range of the automatic door sensors and tried not to fret. He just closed his eyes, leaned back against a bulkhead.

Crewmembers that walked by Jim left him alone to his thoughts.

One of the biggest concerns he’d had - that Sarek would inform Spock about his mother - had already been addressed. Now, all he had to think about was his worry that Sarek would demand that they turn Spock over to him. 

So, Jim tried to organize his arguments in case Sarek went down that path. He hated to have to use logic against a Vulcan. That almost never worked because they knew just how to break down arguments at the weakest points, but he had no other weapons in his arsenal. Federation law was crystal clear when it came to minors. Any genetic parents had automatic guardianship. 

And it wasn’t like he could get Sarek declared incompetent. Or unfit. 

Hell, just thinking about doing such a thing made he snort with derision. At himself. 

Sarek wasn’t unfit. He’d raised Spock just fine the first time around. It was just that Jim didn’t want to give up Spock to his father for any reason. Partially because it would mean that he had failed, but mostly because he would be forced to accept that he would never get Spock - his Spock - back again.

Jim wasn’t ready to face that. Not yet. Maybe, not ever. 

Jim opened his eyes as the conference room door whooshed open.

Spock came out, his back straight, his head up and his eyes and face calm. 

“My father has asked to speak with you in private, Jim,” said Spock.

There was a steadiness to him now that pleased Jim. As if some deep worry, or fear had been laid to rest. 

_I **knew** that he needed to talk to his father,_ thought Jim.

Even with Jim telling him about his place on the ship, and how valuable and liked he was, Spock was still a kid. Every kid needed to hear from their parents.

“Okay, Spock, I‘ll be out in a bit,” said Jim. 

And now the nervousness was slamming back into him. 

Jim tried not to sweat or blink too much as he sat back in his chair at the head of the conference table. 

“Captain Kirk,” said Sarek. “Spock has informed me that you are personally overseeing his care.”

“That‘s right, Ambassador,” said Jim. He cut off the _sir_ that wanted to creep in at the end of Sarek‘s title.

“You have my gratitude for your efforts,” said Sarek. 

“Spock isn‘t exactly hard to care for,” said Jim. “He‘s a good kid.” 

Sarek inclined his head in acceptance of this compliment. “You wanted to know about any other incidents that could arise.”

“Yeah,” said Jim. “His mental link to T‘Pring caught us all off-guard. He collapsed in the mess hall. Luckily, we have a doctor who actually has studied Vulcan medicine as well as Vulcan physiology and was able to clear up what happened.”

“Doctor M‘Benga. I am aware of his assignment to the Enterprise,” said Sarek. 

Jim’s eyebrows went up in surprise. 

“I encouraged the doctor to accept the transfer to the ship,” continued Sarek. “He had also considered transferring to the Vulcan colony in order to provide his services to the colonists and wanted to know my opinion.”

Jim’s stared at him in open shock. Sarek had helped to convince M’Benga to join the Enterprise?

“There are more than enough Vulcan healers to see to the population of the colony, so the resignation of his Starfleet commission was not necessary,” continued Sarek. “It was logical that he should render his services onboard the Enterprise. It is the flagship of the Federation.”

 _Yeah, and it’s also the only starship in the fleet to have a Vulcan officer onboard,_ Jim thought, impressed. Well, damn, it seemed like Spock wasn’t the only Vulcan that Jim kept underestimating. Jim was beginning to suspect that all Vulcans were a lot more sneakier than they promoted themselves as being. 

_Either that or too much contact with humans corrupts them,_ he thought in amusement. 

“First, what can you tell me about T‘Pring?” asked Jim.

“T‘Pring died at the age of ten during her kahs-wan,” said Sarek.

“What? I thought she died on Vulcan,” he said in surprise. 

“Not an unreasonable assumption but a false one,” corrected Sarek. “Her loss also sent Spock into telepathic shock at the age of 10 years, 3 months, 2 days and 5.21 hours.”

Jim made a mental note of the age. 

“At that time the link had been in place for three years and the shock to Spock’s mind was greater than the one he felt aboard the ship,” continued Sarek. “It is unlikely that he will experience this break a second time when he reaches that age, but the memories alone may cause him some trouble.”

Jim nodded. “Should I tell him about what happened to her?”

“I have already informed him of the circumstances regarding her death,” said Sarek. 

“Did you find someone else to engage Spock to?” asked Jim, he remembered M’Benga’s words about biological necessity. He doubted the necessity had gone away just because the girl had died.

“No,” said Sarek. “His mother, having submitted to the tradition the first time, refused to accept it a second time. She was most insistent that now he would follow the human tradition of choosing a mate. After much deliberation, I acquiesced.”

 _She managed to out stubborn and out argue a Vulcan?_

Jim was impressed, and he suddenly wished that he could have had the chance to meet Amanda. She’d been a woman so certain in herself, so emotionally strong that she loved and married a Vulcan, and then gave birth to a child unlike any before born to the universe. 

And then she’d raised Spock into adulthood.

“So, that‘s why T‘Pring wasn‘t on Spock‘s medical file,” said Jim, thoughtfully.

“Other than that, there is one more incident which I will bring to your attention,” said Sarek. “At the age of eleven, Spock was involved in a physical altercation with another student.”

Jim stared again, “Spock fought someone? What did they do? Insult his mother?”

Sarek’s eyebrow went up. “That is accurate guess.”

Jim laughed and threw his hands up in the air. “Why am I surprised? Of course, this is Spock. What else would drive him to punch someone?” Jim grinned. 

Sarek just looked calm. “There is no other topic that would cause such a reaction in my son, that is true. I have recorded a message you are to present to him should his memories of that age return and should he feel the need to speak with me. Unfortunately, my acquisition of the use of the emergency channel can only be used this once.”

“Thank you and I understand,” said Jim.

“Thanks are not necessary, Captain Kirk,” said Sarek. “My son‘s well being is of utmost importance to me. I believe that your estimate of when he could return to his true age to be accurate. But if it is not, if my son is still a child at the end of two weeks, then I will arrive aboard the ship to return him to my guardianship.”

Jim stiffened. “I see, sir. I can assure you that we are doing everything we can to get him back.”

“And if that is not sufficient, then I will remove him from your care,” said Sarek. “A starship is no place for a child, much less a Vulcan child when the lack of them is still so heavily felt by our people.”

All Jim could do was nod before he said his polite goodbyes and watched Sarek’s image on the monitor blink away to black. Then, he leaned back in his chair and sighed. 

“Two weeks,” he said out loud. “That should be enough time. More than enough time.”

Jim trusted his people. They were doing everything they could, and he knew that their combined efforts would bring success. They just needed time. Two weeks should be more than enough for them. 

That didn’t stop Sarek’s threat of taking Spock away from worrying him.

Jim shook his head at himself before he got up and found Spock waiting in the same spot where Jim had been waiting earlier. 

Only, Spock wasn’t leaning but standing up straight, like a security officer on guard duty.

“Was the talk with my father informative?” asked Spock.

“Yeah, real informative,” said Jim. And scary like always, that went without saying. He rather wished he could drink alcohol. He could use of shot of Bones’ medicinal brandy right about now.

“Come on, lets get you back to the room so I can run a scan on you, I forgot to do it before we came here -” he’d been too worried about Sarek - “and I think that Bones will drag us back to the medical bay if we don’t get that data to him.”

Spock’s nose wrinkled and that prompted him to lead the way back to his quarters.

Jim stifled a smile and followed at his heels.


	7. Chapter 7

They ran into McCoy coming down the opposite hall to Spock‘s quarters. His face was set at its most grumpy expression. The sort that Jim usually only saw when the alcohol ran out or when Jim managed to skip out of a mandatory check up by citing captain’s duties. 

“There you are!” scowled McCoy. “What were you up to that made you forget the scans? I told you that you could only get out of med-bay if-”

“Sarek called,” said Jim, interrupting the beginning of what was going to be a long rant. Jim knew that tone all too well.

McCoy abruptly shut up and raised an eyebrow at Jim and Spock, taking in their expressions. The he asked, cautiously, “So, how did it go?”

“Just about what I was expecting,” said Jim, his voice neutral. 

Understanding swept across McCoy’s face. Then sympathy shone in his eyes. 

Spock watched all this, taking in their reactions. He asked, “May I inquire as to the exact nature of those expectations?”

Jim looked down at him to see Spock was looking back up, curiosity clear across his small face by the tiny furrowing of his brow.

“Well, he‘s your father,” said Jim. “He‘s giving me - us - two weeks to get you back to your usual age. If we don’t, then he‘ll come to take you home. I was afraid he‘d demand you sooner, to be honest.”

McCoy made a face at that news which Spock missed.

“My father has informed me of this plan,” said Spock. “I did not concur.”

Now, Jim was the one surprised. “You didn‘t? I thought you would want to get back to him.”

Spock was solemn as he said, “I am a Starfleet officer and I am not really a child. It is logical to allow the most possible time in order to find a way to reverse my condition so that I may be restored to my position.” Spock’s gaze dropped. “Two weeks is not sufficient time to discover a solution. My father did not agree.”

“I was that one that gave him that number,” Jim admitted. “I got it from figuring out the rate you‘re age jumping. Two weeks was the max time that I calculated.”

“But it does not take into account possible delays,” argued Spock.. 

“He’s got a point there,” said McCoy. 

“I did think about set backs, but maybe I didn‘t give it a large enough time window,” said Jim. He titled his head at Spock. “How old are you now, Spock?”

“9 years, 3 months, 2 weeks, and 6.44 days,” said Spock. 

“When did he go over 9?” asked McCoy, startled. 

“Probably when he talked to his father,” answered Jim. Then, something Sarek had said made him brighten up. “Sarek did say that he would only come get you if you were still a child. Once you hit adulthood I don‘t think he‘ll do that. And that‘s only - what? - ten more years?”

“The age of majority for Vulcans is similar to humans,” said Spock, nodding in agreement.

“Yesterday, he was only five years old,” mused McCoy. “That‘s practically four years, give or take a few months. That‘s not a bad rate of growing up.”

“And even if we don’t manage to get him old enough in two weeks, we still won‘t give up,” said Jim, determined. “At the very least, we‘ll know where to find you.”

Spock looked pleased, obvious to Jim by the small upturning of his mouth and the faint crinkling of the corners of his brown eyes.

McCoy gave Spock a reassuring pat on the back. Spock looked back at him warily, taking a step back, incidentally getting closer to Jim. 

Jim fought back a wince at the crestfallen look on his best friend’s face.

 _Poor Bones, the only times that Spock has let him close he’s been unconscious. Awake, Spock just knows him as the scowling doctor who keeps jabbing him with hyposprays,_ Jim thought sympathetically. 

“We were just going to get the scans, right now,” said Jim, hoping to distract them both from the awkwardness of the moment. 

“Okay,” said McCoy, looking away, and setting his grumpy face on. Though, Jim could still see the hurt in his eyes.

“You should come join us tonight,” Jim said impulsively. “I‘ve been thinking about having a movie marathon. Spock needs to see the classics.”

“Classics, huh?” said McCoy. “Knowing you, why do I think that it won‘t be _quality_ classic movies?”

Spock kept looking from Jim to McCoy. Then raised his eyebrow at the smirks that were on both men’s faces. 

Jim grinned and clapped McCoy on the shoulder. “Bones, he didn‘t even get a Gremlins reference! We‘ve got to fill in the gap in the kid‘s education. So, Attack of the Killer Tomatoes! The Blob! Killer Klowns from Outer Space!”

“Aw, come on, Jim. You‘ve seen those a billion times already. No space stuff. We already deal with that enough as it is in real life,” complained McCoy, with a grimace. “Pick something else.”

Jim opened his mouth but McCoy cut him off with a scolding, “No war films, no aliens attacking the Earth, and no horror! _And_ it has to be age appropriate.”

The dismay on Jim’s face made McCoy snort with laughter. 

“Okay, okay,” said Jim, trying not to sulk. There went about 95% of all the movies he liked watching. “I‘ll find something we‘ll all like.”

“I‘ll bring the booze,” said McCoy, and he turned to leave them. “And get me those scans!”

Jim made a face at his back. _Bastard! You’re the one that isn’t letting me have alcohol!_ Now, he really was sulking.

“Don‘t bother!” Jim called after him. “Bring popcorn instead!”

All he got for an answer was a smug chuckle.

“How is it possible for tomatoes to become capable of killing a sentient being? Are they not a Earth plant? With no sentience or even mobility?” asked Spock, with a head tilt.

Jim looked down at him and smiled. “That‘s kind of the point.” Then he waved Spock into his quarters.

Spock proceeded him, and his puzzled expression made Jim laugh. So, he explained, “The idea of something as harmless as a tomato going around and killing people is funny.” 

“I do not understand,” said Spock. 

“I’m afraid that humans can have a twisted sense of humor,” said Jim.

Spock arched an eyebrow.

“It‘s hard to explain,” said Jim. “You‘ll see what I mean.”

Spock nodded. “Is there a reference on human humor that I could read to further my understanding?”

_Now, there was a thought. Maybe if Spock treats it like a scientific experiment he‘ll enjoy it more._

“You know, I‘m pretty sure that there are studies,” said Jim, thoughtfully. “The computer library is bound to have some articles in the databanks if you want to look. Just let me use it first to run the scans and I‘ll let you at it.”

Spock nodded in acceptance.

It took a moment, the routine of the scans making it a fast procedure. Then Jim left Spock to run searches through the computer’s massive archives of information. He was rather curious to see what Spock would find, as researching human humor had never been something that had interested him to study in a scientific manner. He knew what he found funny and that had been enough for him.

He decided to take a shower while Spock was distracted. He hated to admit it, but the talk with Sarek had made him sweat, quite literally, and he wanted nothing more than to have a quick wash before they headed out again. 

So, he pulled out a towel from the replicator, and headed into the restroom.

As he stripped, Jim thought about what they could do to kill time before running their movie marathon. He wanted to give Spock a look at the science labs, since Engineering was still out of the picture. It would also give him a chance to double check on the process of the analysis on the damaged power coupling part that they’d gotten from Space Station 23. 

Even though taking care of small Spock was thoroughly distracting, Jim was still burning to know who was responsible for risking his ship. 

Thinking idle thoughts of the vengeance he’d seek upon the one who’d put so many of his people in danger was darkly entertaining. By the time he was walking out of the water shower with a towel around his waist, Jim also had a wide smile on his face, at the mental picture of sending Cupcake with his squad on that hunt, and he was humming Wagner.

“Ride of the Valkyries, Act III of Die Walküre, composed by Richard Wagner. Earth-date: July 23, 1851,” said Spock, as he looked up towards Jim. At the sight of him, Spock’s cheeks instantly flushed green and his head snapped back to the computer monitor.

Jim paused in mid-hum and blinked at Spock, startled as much by his knowledge as by his odd reaction. “Err, yeah, that‘s right.”

Then he realized that coming out wearing only a towel probably hadn’t been his best idea ever. Did Vulcans even have nudity taboos? He’d never run across any indications that they had before, but maybe it was just a Spock thing. Even among humans, nudity taboos and other similar hang-ups could vary from individual to individual, as well as culture to culture. Jim just never thought to ask Spock.

Jim quickly snagged a fresh uniform and retreated into restroom before he embarrassed the kid even further. 

When Jim came out again, Spock’s face was back to it’s natural color though there was a new stiffness to his face that made Jim feel uneasy. It was as if Spock was trying doubly hard to hide his reactions, like he thought that Jim had the same expectancies of emotional control as a Vulcan.

_Damn it. I did embarrass him._

“Sorry about that Spock,” Jim said, hoping to mitigate some of the damage.

“Apologies are unnecessary,” said Spock, his voice in monotone. 

Jim gave him a skeptical look. “If I do things that”- don’t say embarrassed! -“go against your cultural upbringing. You need to tell me. I don‘t exactly know everything about Vulcan culture.”

Though, he had been trying to learn some of it on his time off, partly to know his first officer better and partly because the loss of Vulcan had made such knowledge all the more precious, in his opinion. The only obstacle he’d had was that he didn’t really have much free time as captain. Unless he happened to be recovering from injuries .

Spock looked like he was going to say something but thought better of it and just nodded. 

Jim eyed him before accepting that he’d just have to get Spock to relax the old fashioned way. With some fun. 

“So, did you find anything usual in the computer about human humor?” asked Jim.

Spock nodded. “The databanks had an article about human entertainment, specially focused on movies which was written by a Vulcan with extensive experience among humans. The article described the social and cultural significance of movies. It explained that movies are entertainment designed to evoke a range of emotional responses from curiosity, humor, fear, and sympathy.”

“Yeah, that‘s true,” said Jim. “A good movie is the kind that has an impact. It can be positive or negative. It can‘t just fall flat.”

“T‘Pol, the author of the article in question, also wrote that while largely fictional, these movies are treated as being factual during its duration,” said Spock. “I admit that I do not understand the purpose in treating something that is not real as if it is.”

“Well,” said Jim, thoughtfully, “we do it because it helps us to unleash our emotions.”

Spock’s eyebrow went up. “For what purpose?”

Jim smiled. “To let movie have greater impact of course.”

“Fascinating,” said Spock.

Jim grinned. “You‘ll see what T‘Pol meant later tonight.”

“I will make careful observations,” said Spock. 

Jim shook his head fondly. Even while small, Spock was still being a scientist. Which reminded him.

“Speaking about making observations, how would you like to check out the science labs? I‘ve got to head down there anyway, so we can spend time checking out the lab equipment afterwards,” said Jim. 

Spock’s eyes lit up, and the stoic blankness dropped to a greater range of expressiveness. Not much, but definitely to a level that Jim could read with greater ease and that was definitely excitement that he could see in Spock’s eyes.

“I would be gratified to have access to the Astrometrics Lab,” said Spock. 

“Okay, then that’s the plan,” said Jim, cheerfully. 

“Should I change my attire?” asked Spock. 

“Nah, you‘re the head of the Science Department, they‘re used to seeing you in uniform,” said Jim, as he walked toward the door. “It‘ll just confuse them, otherwise.”

Spock gave him a look, as he followed at his side. The furrow of his brow conveyed that if he suspected Jim of applying his human humor on him. 

And Jim was, because seeing such faces on his small face was both adorable and hilarious.

“I find it highly unlikely that scientists that serve aboard a Federation starship would be so easily confused by a simple change of apparel,” scolded Spock. 

Jim grinned down at him. “You never know, it could happen.”

“That is a needless opened ended argument without a solid defense,” said Spock. There was a miniscule flicker of amusement in his eyes that just made Jim grin all the harder. 

They were still cheerfully arguing the fragility of scientists’ brains or lack thereof, when they walked out of the turbolift and onto the deck level that housed the majority of the science labs. Including the Astrometrics Lab that had so captured Spock’s interest. 

“Captain!” said Scotty, with a wave through the open door of a lab where he sat in from of a computer station. “I was just about to come find ye!”

“Hey, Scotty,” said Jim, walking towards him. Spock followed at his side. 

“I see ye have the commander back in uniform. Good to see yer doin’ better, laddie. Ye had all us all worried when the news of yer collapse reached us in Engineering,” said Scotty, peering at Spock as if seeking further reassurance of the boy’s well-being.

Spock’s eyes went a little wide at that declaration as he was caught off-guard by expression of unexpected concern.

Jim dropped his hand on Spock’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

Spock blinked and said, “I am in optimal health, Mr. Scott.”

“Call me, Scotty!” 

“I do not believe that would appropriate,” said Spock, slowly.

“Aye, that‘s what ye said last time too,” said Scotty, in amusement. He shook his head and turned back to Jim. He continued, his voice now serious, “I did call ye in for more reasons than to check on the laddie‘s health.”

“What is it, Scotty?” asked Jim, matching him in somberness. 

“The lab techs have the results back on their forensics check on the part that nearly killed us,” said Scotty, he touched a few readouts on the computer and brought up a screen. He turned them monitor so that Spock and Jim could both read it. “And accordin’ to the results, the part was actually manufactured on Orion.”

“Orion. Motherfuc-,” Jim cut himself off, with a swift look down at Spock. “No wonder the part had that flaw in it.”

“Aye, a badly manufactured piece of crap that had to have passed who knows how many space ports to end up as far as it did in Federation space,” said Scotty. 

Jim frowned in thought. “Not necessarily, Space Station 23 is close to Federation traffic lanes. It has a high flow of commerce, with ships that travel to and from the edges of Federation space with cargo. It could have come directly from Orion territory.”

“Aye, possibly,” said Scotty.

“Orion manufacture is outlawed in Federation space because it is the product of slave labor,” interrupted Spock. “If it is of Orion origin than it would not be sold on the open market for it is contraband under Federation law.”

Jim and Scotty both stared at Spock in surprise by the unexpected addition of information. 

“He‘s right,” said Jim, with a smack of his fist to his hand. “Orion goods are outlawed, only allowed if they are specifically certified from slave-free words. How complicated was the test to find out where it had come from? Can it be narrowed down to a specific planet?”

“Not too difficult,” said Scotty. “At least not if ye are lookin’ for Orion tech. The test took so long because the lab had to eliminate other possible sources. Findin’ out if it came from a slave planet should take a moment.”

Scotty turned the monitor back to himself and clicked on the keyboard. He frowned a the monitor as the new result flashed onscreen looked back up them. “It came from a slave planet.”

Jim’s thoughts spun, and connects formed with rapid speed. He remembered the attitude of the man in charge of the space station, and how much he‘d hated him virtually on sight. He trusted his instincts. “I think I know what happened.”

Scotty looked interested. Spock watched Jim intently as he if was trying to follow Jim’s train of thought from his expression.

“One of the duties of the space stations is to check the cargo of merchant ships for exactly that sort of thing,” explained Jim. “They have specially calibrated sensors that are constantly updated just for that purpose of finding contraband. Then they are suppose to confiscate the cargo. Not end up selling it to unsuspecting ships for a profit.”

Jim and Scotty exchanged grim looks. 

“I see where yer goin’ with this, captain, ” said Scotty, darkly. “I am goin’ to kill that bloody bastard.”

Spock paled. 

“He‘s exaggerating again,” said Jim, with a quelling look at Scotty. Though, he completely agreed with his chief engineer‘s murderous sentiment. He wanted to kill the civilian commander in charge of Space Station 23 just as badly. He didn’t want to freak Spock out by saying so.

“Not by that much,” scowled Scotty, then he softened. “Sorry, laddie. It is just that no one endangers the ship without answerin‘ to me about it.”

“Or me,” said Jim. 

“Jim, you said that the danger of the ship actually exploding was minimal,” said Spock. “The level of your reactions indicates the danger was greater than you had said.”

Scotty sighed, suddenly looking very tired as he answered, “It could have been, laddie. If anythin‘ explodin‘ would have been a mercy, than if the nacelle was damaged durin‘ warp ‘cause then it would have been swift.”

“The ship would have dropped out of warp without warning,” added Jim. “And without warp capacity, we’d just have impulse power. Which meant that it could have taken us months or even longer to get to a nearby star system, depending on where the ship dropped out of warp.”

“And if we were very unlucky, we‘d ‘ave also lost the impulse engines,” said Scotty. “We would have been stuck without power, who knows how many light-years from the nearest planet.”

Spock’s eyes were huge by now. 

“It would not ‘ave been a pretty death,” said Scotty, softly. 

“No,” agreed Jim. It was a nightmare scenario for any captain, whether the ship was a starship or space barge. Lost in the middle of open space, with no power, no engines, no ability to call for help and no way to keep your people alive for very long. 

It made Jim feel grateful for the twist of chance that had brought Scotty into his life and onto the ship as the Chief of Engineering. And it made him think all over again that some ships weren’t as lucky, and wonder at how many such ships were now dead, drifting in space as nothing but ghost ships, all because of greed.

“I want this information sent to Starfleet Command with the highest priority,” Jim ordered, his voice quiet, but seething with anger. “Ships vanish everyday, lost to space from unknown calamities. How many do you think vanished because of Orion parts bought on that space station?”

“One would be too many,” said Scotty. “I’ll have the report but together for Starfleet in less than an hour. Only sir, we do not really have evidence to get anyone convicted. Yer suspicions are not really enough.”

“Starfleet will find out the truth,” said Jim. “I‘d love to go back and get the evidence that we need ourselves but we still have a mission here. Starfleet will give this extra attention with the danger posed to so many people. Send it over emergency channels with extra copies to be sent to all starships. Add the suggestion that they check if they received any parts from that space base.”

Scotty nodded. “Aye, sir.”

Scotty stood up to see to Jim’s order but wobbled as soon as he was upright. 

“Scotty!” said Jim in concern, reaching out to catch him. 

Scotty shook his head, waved Jim away. “Just a little dizziness, captain.”

Jim frowned at him, taking in the dark circles under Scotty‘s eyes. “When was the last time you got any sleep?”

“What day of the week is it?” asked Scotty, jokingly.

Jim raised his eyebrows at him.

“I could not leave the engines in the state they were in, captain,” explained Scotty. “This was too important. I ‘ave run on less sleep than this before.”

“Yeah, but those were in the middle of emergency situations where we were under a time crunch,” said Jim. “We‘re not in that much trouble right now so you need to get sleep.”

“Alright, sir. I just need to see to this first,” said Scotty, firmly. 

Jim sighed, then ordered, “Alright, Mr. Scott, but as soon as you get the report done sent it to Starfleet Command, then you are to take yourself off-duty.”

“Aye, captain,” agreed Scotty, nodding in acceptance before he walked away. 

“You suspect that there have been other ships who have been endangered by Orion contraband ship replacement parts,” observed Spock. 

“Yeah,” said Jim. “But I really hope that the Enterprise was the first one to get stuck with one. Other ships wouldn’t have gotten out of trouble so easily.”

“I must agree,” said Spock, with a look to where Scotty had turned in the hall. “Mr. Scott has proven to be a most competent engineer.”

Jim grinned at the approving tone in Spock‘s voice. “Scotty is the best. He‘ll see to it that the right information gets out. Come on, lets go to see the rest of the science labs.”  
*-*-*-*

Spock was having an absolute blast in the science labs, in Jim’s opinion. 

All the science officers had been excited to see their commanding officer, and more than willing to show off to him every single possible thing that he showed the least amount of interest in.

Jim pretty much just leaned back and let Spock be surrounded by his subordinates as they answered all his questions. 

Spock had been rather wide-eyed at first from all their attention but their respectful tones and smiles had quickly settled the boy down. Though, he did keep glancing back at Jim, as if to reassure himself that he hadn’t been left alone.

Jim smiled at him whenever he did.

“Thank you for bringing Mr. Spock down to us, captain,” said Lieutenant Hernandez, as Jim watched Spock being shown every inch of the chemical analysis lab. “They just about killed me with their questions when I told them I‘d talked to the commander on the bridge. And when we heard that Mr. Spock was in the medical bay? Well, it wasn‘t pretty.”

“None of us were happy when that happened,” said Jim. “I would have stopped up by earlier if that hadn‘t happened.” 

“What was the cause of Mr. Spock‘s collapse, sir?” asked Hernandez. 

“Nothing physical,” answered Jim. “It was the result of his memories coming back. I can‘t exactly tell you the details.”

“I understand, sir,” said Hernandez. “It‘s Mr. Spock‘s business.”

“Exactly, lieutenant,” agreed Jim. “After Mr. Spock is back to normal it will be his choice what to share with the rest of the crew.”

“Jim!” said Spock. He stepped away from his huddle of subordinates and looked toward Jim with an excited gleam in his eyes. “The next lab we will examine will be the Astrometrics Laboratory .”

“You really like stellar cartography, don‘t you Spock?” asked Jim, with a small smile. 

“The charting and analysis of stellar bodies is the current focus of my studies,” said Spock. There was a small bounce in his step as he moved out to the hall. 

_Kid just doesn’t want to say that he enjoys studying the stars,_ thought Jim, in amusement. Jim knew because Spock had never grown out of that interest. 

He followed after Spock and his subordinates but he didn’t get to enter the Astrometrics Lab before Yeoman Rand found him.

“Captain Kirk,” she called. “Captain Kirk! I have an update from the away team that you‘ll want to see!”

Jim paused and waited for her to catch up. He watched her nearly bounce with excitement, her blonde pixie cut hair in a disarray. 

“Did you run here, yeoman?” asked Jim, interested despite himself. He’d never seen Rand run, at least not when they weren’t in red alert. She walked smartly, and people got the hell out of her way.

“Sir,” she said, not bothering to answer, “you‘ll want to read this.”

She gave him her PADD. 

Curious, Jim scrolled thorough the report and a wide smile spread across his face. It seemed that Keenser and the team of scientists down at Cromtic had found a solution to get Spock back to normal. 

The schematics to a reversal machine for the Cub Sphere. 

“Yes!” Jim whooped. Rand grinned right back at him.

The only problems that Keenser reported was that the schematics was missing some information. The schematics were so old that they were on hard copy, and the ink on the paper was faded in places. Also, the equipment and tools to build the machine were no longer available on Cromtic, except possibly in museums.

The team would have to build the reversal machine from scratch which could take several days. Though, High Priest-Engineer Kret had volunteered to help so the work should go faster. An additional jump to their timetable would be if they used the transporter. Keenser had written that the transporter tech figured that use of the transporter buffers would help in keeping Spock from suffering any side effects from the forced age jump. Otherwise the stress would be too much, since the normal trigger was supposed to be Spock’s happiness.

Spock popped out of the Astrometrics Lab, looking at him with a raised eyebrow as Jim damn near danced in glee. The rest of the scientists looked through the open door in curiosity.

Jim grinned at Spock and waved the PADD in the air. “Got good news from the away team.” Spock still looked like he thought Jim had gone crazy on him. Jim laughed in delight. “I just got a little excited, Spock.”

“They have a solution to return me to my regular age?” asked Spock. 

“Hopefully,” said Jim. “They‘re still working on it, so it’s not too certain yet. But they have something, the plans to the machine that should reverse what the Cub Sphere did to you.”

Spock nodded slowly. Then he looked away, and the slight hunching of his shoulders killed the fire of Jim’s excitement like it was ice water. 

“Hey,” Jim said softly, walking towards Spock and dropping down on his knees before the kid so that their faces were at the same height. He set the PADD by his side to free his hands.

Spock refused to meet his eyes.

Jim put his hands on his slim, small shoulders and squeezed gently. “Hey, Spock,” he said softly. “I‘m not going to make you do anything you don‘t want to.”

Spock finally met his eyes. There was a bleakness there that made Jim’s breath catch in his throat. He swallowed, before smiling reassuringly as he said, “If you want to keep going like we‘ve been, then we’ll just keep doing what we’ve been doing until we get your age back to normal.”

“It would be logical to-” 

Jim cut him off. “Logical, maybe. But Spock, the reversal machine can just be a back-up. There‘s nothing wrong with how you‘re aging now, it‘s just the time restraints that we have that‘s making me push everyone to find a cure.”

“Would you not like me to regain my former age as soon as possible?” asked Spock, with a vulnerability in his eyes that gave Jim the impression that the wrong answer would break the kid’s heart. 

“I like you at any age,” said Jim, honestly. “I like you at every age. I told you that we‘re friends, Spock. I don‘t just turn off how much I like someone because they‘re no longer a grownup or a child. You‘re Spock - kid or adult - you‘re still you. And I like _you._ ”

Spock blinked. And his hands came to cover Jim’s hands, just resting them on top of Jim’s fingers.

His eyes went distant, as if he was paying attention to something else. 

Jim wondered how strong his touch telepathy had been at age 9 and tried to send as much of his affection for Spock and the deep sincerity of his words as he possibly could.

And finally, the slump to Spock’s shoulders went away as the boy straightened up and dropped his hands from Jim’s skin. 

“Thank you,” whispered Spock, his voice so low that even as close as Jim was to him, he barely heard it.

Jim smiled, picked up the PADD and stood up. “Go back into the lab, I‘ll be there in a second.”

Spock nodded and turned back to the lab. 

Jim saw that the science officers who’d been shamelessly eavesdropping were all now beaming at him. 

Jim shook his head at them and turned back to Rand. He caught her blinking away rapidly, her blue eyes were wetter than usual. 

“Yeoman-” Jim paused, uncertain of how to react to her expression.

“Captain,” she said stiffly, before grabbing the PADD back from him and marching away at a near run. 

Jim grinned after her. It wasn’t often he got to see his yeoman show a softer side. She was usually too busy trying to intimidate him into doing his paperwork.

He walked into the Astrometrics Lab to once again see Spock surrounded by his adoring subordinates. So, Jim found a conveniently empty piece of wall and watched Spock charm them even further with his intelligent questions. 

Everything was moving at a great pace. He was definitely more reassured now than he’d been after the discussion with Sarek. His people had justified the confidence he had in them.

Once they had a reversal machine ready for them, Jim had a way to keep Spock from being taken from them, even if Spock chose to not use it.

Now, all he had to worry about was what movies would he pick for them to watch tonight when Bones came over.

_Aw, damn. Why did Bones have to remind me that it had to be age appropriate?_

He wondered what were the chances of him getting Spock to age jump into his teens before then.


	8. Chapter 8

Jim kept watching with amusement as Spock ran a series of scans on Cromtic, the Cromtician sun, and the various other stellar bodies in the system for a good chunk of an hour. 

One of the science officers had scrounged up a empty PADD from somewhere and had given it to Spock so that he could upload the data he had gathered from the computer. Another, seeing his coworker’s innovative thought, had vanished out into the hall and after several minutes had returned with a tricorder. Not the medical kind, but the sort of tricorder specifically designed for the science department for greater analysis of substances ranging from the biological to the geological to the zoological. 

Jim nearly died of stifled laughter at the expression on the science officer’s face when he held out the tricorder to Spock. The man looked like he was offering a sacrifice to a beloved god, opposed to just giving a kid an advanced piece of technology to play with.

When Spock took the tricorder and slung the strap over his shoulder, a small smile curving at the corners of his lips the science officer beamed back proudly. 

Jim had to put his hand over his mouth to hide his grin.

 _I wonder if Spock had any idea of how much his officers admire him?_ Jim rather thought that Spock didn’t have a clue, or possibly considered their respect for him was solely based upon his position as the first officer. 

For a guy who was one of smartest and toughest man that Jim knew, some things just went clear over his head. 

“Jim,” said Spock, pulling Jim out of his amused thoughts. He had come up to Jim, still holding his new PADD, his eyes gleaming with suppressed excitement.

“Yeah, Spock?” asked Jim.

“I have concluded my scans of the Cromtician system,” said Spock.

“How did you find it?” asked Jim. 

Spock blinked at him. “We are in geosynchronous orbit above the planet Cromtic. I did not have to find it at all.”

Jim grinned. “I meant - what to you think of Astrometrics lab‘s scanners?”

The gleam came back into Spock’s eyes. “I think that this lab has the most advanced equipment that I have ever seen. The long range scanners exceeded the range of what I had read was possible by half a parsec.”

“The Enterprise is the newest ship in the fleet,” Jim said proudly. “It isn‘t only her people that are the best of the Federation.”

“I have found this to be true,” said Spock, thoughtfully.

The science officers now looked like Spock had declared that they had a month solid of shore leave. 

Jim shook his head at them, silently laughing. “Are you done for now? It’s about time we took a lunch break…hmm, though it‘s more like an early dinner at this point.” Between Spock ending up in the medical bay, and then their mutual naps, their schedule had been so screwed up that their second meal of the day was rather late. “If there‘s time afterwards, we‘ll see about exploring more of the ship, if we don‘t there‘s always tomorrow.”

“I would be gratified to continue the tour of the ship on a later date. Currently, I have been informed that the next mission of the Enterprise is to chart a nebula,” said Spock, his voice rising a little in his excitement. “Would I be allowed to assist in this task?”

Spock was looking at him with those pleading eyes that Jim still hadn’t built up any resistance to. Though, Jim rather thought it was too much when all the science officers joined in silent begging. 

What was a captain to do?

 _Well, they do have me out-numbered,_ Jim thought, amused. _Might as well surrender gracefully, before Spock thinks to bring out his dangerous arsenal._ Jim had come to the conclusion that those puppy-dog eyes that Spock could pull out were only funny when they were inflicted on other people. 

“I don‘t see why not,” answered Jim. 

Spock looked pleased. 

“But Spock,” Jim said, “we won‘t be heading to the nebula right after we finish our mission here. We have to stop by a starbase first to get another part for the nacelle, remember? Scotty‘s got the ship going again but the parts he‘s using are old and their need to be replaced is what got us stuck with the Orion part in the first place. There‘s no way that the ship will be able to use the replacement for long. Especially that close to Romulan space.” They definitely couldn’t when near such dangerous territory, especially should they need to be able to push the engines as hard as they had in the past. 

They wouldn’t be able to do that with the part that Scotty had put together to tide them over until they got to a starbase.

“I understand,” said Spock solemnly, the small evidence of his excitement vanished to nothing. 

“But getting a new part shouldn’t take that long.“ Jim said reassuringly. “More than likely we’ll be ordered to continue to the nebula right after we’re back to tiptop shape.”

Spock nodded. 

“Though, I have to warn you that Starfleet Command could still change our orders at the last minute,” continued Jim. “So Spock, don‘t be disappointed we don’t end up getting to it.”

“Vulcans are not a species which experiences such emotions,” said Spock, primly.

Jim suppressed a disbelieving snort.

“Even if our orders change, you are welcome to come back anytime you‘d like,” said Lieutenant Hernandez. The rest of the officers joined in chorus of agreement. “We‘re always running the long range scanners to stellar bodies and you could help us with that!”

“I would be more than willing to provide assistance in this task though I must extended my gratitude to your consideration of my disruption to your work schedule,” said Spock.

“Oh no, sir-”

“It was fun!”

“Feel free to come back, Commander!”

“Yes! Please visit again, Mr. Spock.“

The science officers said in a torrent of reassurance as they quickly surrounded Spock. 

The boy was beginning to look like he was thinking about bolting away so Jim used a couple of well applied elbows and his captain’s authority to get into the middle of the huddle. Then, Jim carefully tugged Spock free from the mass of science officers and led him out the door. 

There Jim gave the officers, who looked like they were just going to follow them out and into the hall, a quelling glance. And as the door whooshed close, all Spock and Jim heard from them were disappointed sighs and groans.

As they walked down the hall to get to the nearest lift Jim noticed that Spock’s cheeks were paler than usual, and his eyes were wide again. 

“Hey, you okay?” asked Jim, as they got on the lift.

Spock opened his mouth, then closed it. After a moment he said. “I do consider their reactions to myself to be somewhat overwhelming. I am not used to getting such attention from strangers. Or from individuals that do not share a genetic connection with myself.”

“Well, you are in charge of the Science Department, you’re not just first officer. They spend more time with you than most other crew members of the ship - well, other than the bridge officers,” said Jim, thoughtfully. “Also, they heard that you ended up in the medical bay and that must have made them rather worried. Then when they saw you, safe and sound, they expressed some of their relief and excitement. It probably got a little away from them.”

“They are not normally so demonstrative?” asked Spock, with a head tilt. 

Jim laughed. “No. I don‘t think they would normally dare act anything but professional when you - grownup you - is around.”

Spock was thoughtful as he turned these words over in his head. “I understand.”

“That‘s good,” said Jim, as the turbolift doors opened. “They‘ll probably be calmer, next time we see them. And hey! You got a PADD and a tricorder out of the trip.”

Spock shifted the PADD, tucking it under his arm, and patted the tricorder at his side. Spock’s delight at the them made Jim wish that he had been the one to think of it. He was somewhat sulky about it.

 _Oh hell, I can’t be expected to be endlessly brilliant, all the time,_ Jim thought with a snort at himself.

“The ship has a botany garden, that has specimens from almost every Federation planet, as well as those planets that the Enterprise has explored,” Jim said. “We can stop by there next and you can use the tricorder on them, if you want.”

“I would find that to be most satisfactory,” said Spock. 

They walked through the door of the mess hall, and that’s when the enthusiastic clapping from the crew sitting at their stables started up. Even Jim was startled.

Spock froze in mid-step. 

“Alright, everyone,” said Jim, raising a hand after the noise refused to die down after several seconds. “I know that you‘re all happy see Spock, but we‘re just here for dinner.”

The crew subsided, but they still directed their smiles at Spock and Jim. 

It took Jim putting his hand between the boy’s shoulder blades for Spock to begin moving again.

“More enthusiastic expressions of relief?” asked Spock as they headed for the nearest empty table. 

Jim gave him an amused look. “It sure looks like it.”

Spock nodded, and sat the table with only one glance at the crew.

 _No doubt, he’s wondering if he’s going to get mobbed again, ___Jim thought in amusement.

“So Spock, you‘re still not willing to admit to a food preference?” asked Jim.

Spock just shot him a look that had a hint of exasperation to it. Laughing, Jim got up and went to get their lunch. Not really having any preference either, Jim picked the random feature on the replicator, with the only limitation being that the food came out vegetarian. 

He ended up with a couple bowls of steaming black lentils over brown rice and two giant slices of mixed berry pie. The sweet smell of the pie proved to be too much to resist, so when Jim set the food trays onto the table, he sat down and promptly dug into his slice. 

Spock eyed him with a raised eyebrow for a moment before he picked up his fork and copied Jim.

When Spock’s eyebrows went up again and Jim could read see that he was more startled than anything else.

“I have eaten this dessert before,” sad Spock, staring down at the pie. 

“You have?” asked Jim, startled too.

Spock nodded, “It is a favorite of my mother.” He pulled up the tricorder and scanned the pie. “Yes, the readings support my conclusion, the fruit are a mix of Rubus fruticosus, Rubus arcticus, Vaccinium myrtilloides. Also known as the common blackberry, the artic raspberry and Canadian blueberry. These are my mother‘s favorite ingredients in this sort of particular pastry.”

Jim stared at Spock then at his semi-demolished slice. _Damn, I wonder what are the odds of the replicator doing that. They have to be somewhere in the tens of thousand to one. Maybe higher, when you factor in that there are also non-Earth foods available through the menu._

Spock was silent for a moment as he put away the tricorder. “Father would not tell me of her current location. I have a message I wanted to send to her.”

Jim flinched, too surprised by the statement to catch himself from reacting. Luckily, Spock had been looking at his own pie and hadn’t see it. Jim held back a sigh of relief.

“My father said that it would better to wait for my memories,” continued Spock, his voice somber. 

“That‘s probably the best thing to do,” said Jim, quietly. He hoped that was as noncommittal as possible. 

Spock nodded slowly and went back to eating the berry pie. 

Fortunately, from what Jim could read of Spock’s body language and his calm expression, the mention of his mother hadn’t triggered any worry in the boy. Whatever else Sarek had said to Spock, he had instilled a calm about his family that a simple reminder of them wasn’t enough to shake. Which was very good as Jim hated the thought of having to tiptoe around the mention of Spock’s mother. 

That was a surefire to make Spock start thinking that something was wrong. 

“What other kinds of foods does your mother like?” asked Jim. 

Between small careful bites of pie, Spock gave Jim a list. It amused Jim quite a bit when he noticed that Spock’s list was separated by category such as breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert and then further subdivided into planet origin, and then alphabetized. 

Apparently, Amanda had quite a taste for non-human foods. 

_Probably the reason why Spock had never eaten spaghetti before the age of nine,_ Jim thought. He’d been wondering about that. _He’s been eating everything from Andorian cabbage soup to Bajoran mapa bread. No wonder he hasn‘t gotten around to Italian._

Suddenly feeling too curious about the result, Jim got up and checked the replicator menu, tracking down the recipe of the pie and wasn’t at all surprised when he found that Spock had been the one to program it into the replicator in the first place. 

It made him double check to see what else Spock had programmed. Jim ran another search and found few hundred dishes. About 2/3rds of them were from the list of Amanda’s favorite foods that Spock had just told him about. The others were Vulcan cuisine.

 _And he says he has no food preferences._ Jim snorted and returned to the table. He told Spock what he’d found out. 

Spock nodded as if he had suspected the same thing. “I did not consider it unlikely that another being would have the exact recipe to my mother‘s pie. The probability was less than 5 percent.”

“That high?” asked Jim, surprised.

“It is a family recipe,” Spock explained, carefully digging into the pie and finding a mostly whole blueberry. “Therefore the chances of it being passed along by another Grayson raises the probability.”

“Good point,” said Jim, and now he found himself wondering about Spock’s human family. He hadn’t really asked before, he realized. But now, he wondered at how many living relations Spock still had. 

_He has to be the only Vulcan in the universe to still have so much family left over._

It was a sobering thought, even if it also made him glad on Spock’s behalf.

“So, Spock how old are you now?” asked Jim, having realized that he hadn’t checked in a while. 

“I am 9 years, 10 months, 3 weeks, and 2.08 days,” said Spock, after swallowing his mouthful of pie. 

_So close to ten, and to the memory of T’Pring‘s death._

“If you start to feel odd, like you‘re going to pass out, or anything like that, let me know right away,” said Jim, his tone very serious. 

Solemnly, Spock nodded. “You are concerned about the reacquisition of my memories of T‘Pring.”

“Yeah,” said Jim. 

“My father has inform me of the symptoms of the broken mind link,” said Spock. His brow furrowed, “I should not experience a secondary shock as I am now well prepared to minimize the reactions.”

“That‘s good,” said Jim, with a smile. “I don‘t think my heart can take it a second time.”

Spock looked at him intently, his mouth flattened to a severe line, before he relaxed. “That was another example of hyperbole.”

“That‘s right,” said Jim. “Well, kind of.”

Spock frowned, just a little down turn of his lips and a lowering of his brows. “Such exaggeration is not necessary.”

“Who said I was exaggerating?” asked Jim. He poked his lentils with a fork and pulled a speared pearl onion. “I never said I was talking about my physical heart.”

Spock blinked at him. Then a flush of green swept across his small face. 

Jim paused in mid-chew and watched in fascination as the green blush went up to the tips of Spock’s little pointed ears.

Spock promptly dropped his gaze to his plate of pie and practically radiated nonchalance. As if by ignoring the very fact that he was blushing it would be enough to convince everyone that it wasn’t happening. 

Jim went along with it though he was rather amused to have triggered such a reaction in the him for what looked like the third time today. The kid certainly blushed a hellavu lot more than the grown version. Jim idly wondered what it would take to make grownup Spock blush like that. He made a mental note to himself to try to find out.

But hopefully, in such a way that it wouldn’t get Spock pissed off at him.

“Captain Kirk,” said Yeoman Rand, interrupting Jim’s internal musings and making him jump from surprise. He hadn’t heard her come up to him. Jim eyed her curiously. 

“I have a message from Starfleet Command, captain,” she said, her voice professional as always. There was a glower to her expression, as if she was daring her captain to mention how she had looked last time they had talked. 

Jim wisely decided not to tease her about it. He rather thought that Rand would find an inventive way to make him pay for it if he brought up her teary eyes. And considering she controlled the paperwork, Jim rather not piss her off. At least not without a solid getaway plan in place beforehand.

Jim grabbed her held out PADD, and read the message. His eyebrows went up. 

“Thank you, Rand,” said Jim. He signed the message to indicate that he had received it. “Make sure that Mr. Scott has a copy of it waiting for him in his computer when he wakes up. It‘s not a priority, so don‘t wake him up for it.”

“Aye, captain. I will shortly have the day’s reports collected for you to sign,” said Rand.

Jim gave her an innocent look. “Take all the time you want, yeoman. If fact, if you want to take longer at it, I won‘t tell anyone.” He added his most charming smile.

“I will have them ready before the hour is up,” said Rand, ignoring him. 

Jim suspected that six months of being her captain had really built up her immunity to his charms. There went that defense against dull paperwork.

He sighed and agreed. 

Rand departed with a nod to him and to Spock. 

Spock was looking at him with interest. He asked, “Is it possible for me to know about the contents of the message from Starfleet?”

“Yeah, I don‘t see why not,” said Jim. “The message was just Starfleet informing me that Starfleet Intelligence was sending a team to investigate Space Base 23, the base where we got the faulty part.”

“Starfleet Intelligence?” asked Spock, his brow furrowed to form a tiny line. “Is it not the duty of Starfleet Security to conduct investigations in matters that involve internal Federation security?”

“Normally, but Starfleet Command is concerned that the Orion part may indicate that it was deliberate sabotage,” answered Jim. “And since Intelligence deals with keeping up on the goings on of non-Federation worlds, they‘re getting involved in case it is a deliberate plan.”

“You do not think that it is a probably possibility,” observed Spock. Then he frowned minimally, “They did not believe you.”

“No, they believe me alright,” disagreed Jim, though Spock hasn’t asked a question so much as made a statement. “If they didn‘t believe me then they wouldn‘t have bothered to try to send anyone to the station in the first place. Or they would have written it off as the Orion part just being an unlucky coincidence. They just want to cover their bases.”

“I do not understand. Would not such a use of resources be a waste of time and personnel?” asked Spock, his frown more pronounced. 

“Not in this case,” answered Jim. “There’s still a pretty good possibility that I misread the situation, though I’m sure I didn’t. But if I did then it‘s better for Starfleet to make a thorough investigation than to have something as serious as a deliberate saboteur get away. Starfleet would rather waste time than risk losing lives.”

Spock slowly nodded in understanding. “It does appear to be rather inefficient.”

“Well, they don‘t have much to go on. They just the Orion part, that we got it on Space Station 23 and my guess as to what is going on there,” said Jim. “We‘ll know what they find out when their investigation is conducted. Starfleet Command said it‘ll keep us updated as it goes on.”

Spock nodded and finished eating his pie. He licked the corners of his lips. Before he began to eat any bit of the lentils and rice, Spock pulled out the tricorder again and scanned the food. Once he was satisfied with his results did he deign to bit into his dinner. 

Jim laughed at the realization that using the tricorder had become Spock’s new equivalent of taking his meal apart to examine it.

Jim finished eating before Spock was even a third of the way through his plate so he switched his gaze from Spock and the crew in alternating glances. 

It was amusing to realize that the crew kept peeking over at Spock as if they needed to reassure themselves that the kid was alright by constantly checking. It made him wonder if he should sent out a general memo to the crew but he ended up deciding that the rumor mill would probably do a better and faster job of letting everyone know that Spock was just fine.

It was during one of those alternating looks that he saw Chekov walk into the mess hall.

“Chekov!” called Jim, waving the teen over. 

Chekov veered from where he was heading over to the replicators and paused next to his captain. 

“Keptin! Commander Spock,” said Chekov, with a smile. “I didn’t think that I would find you here.”

“Oh?” asked Jim, with raised eyebrows. Spock paused in his eating and looked up at Chekov. 

“I just saw Doctor McCoy in the hall, he mentioned he was going to be meeting you for mowie night.”

“Not until later tonight,” said Jim.

“It is a good idea! Mr. Spock should see the Russian classics,” said Chekov enthusiastically. “Like Disney!”

Jim suppressed a laugh. “I still haven‘t picked out the movies, Chekov. Bones gave me a list of restrictions that I have to stick to, or who knows what he‘ll do to me next time he has me in his clutches.”

Chekov’s expression was now sympathetic. “I will come up with a list of titles for you. I will send them to your computer after I have my dinner.”

“Thanks, Chekov,” said Jim. “Though before you go eat, I have a question for you, ensign.”

“Yes, sir?”

“How‘s Gamma and Beta taking their longer shifts on the bridge?” asked Jim. “Should I order the activation of the reserve Delta shift?”

“No,” said Chekov after a moment to give his captain‘s questions some serious thought. “We are a little more tired than usual, keptin. But all it’s really doing is cutting into our off-duty time. Time we would normally be awake for anyway.”

Jim frowned. “I don‘t want to do that either.”

“We don‘t mind, sir,” said Chekov reassuringly. “It is for Mr. Spock.”

“Good point, Mr. Chekov. Mr. Spock is worthy of a little extra long shift,” agreed Jim, shooting Spock a teasing look.

Spock ducked his head. 

Chekov beamed brightly at the kid.

Jim grinned at them both. _Anymore adorable in one room and I think that the ship will explode for sure,_ he thought with a mental laugh.

“Thanks, Chekov,” said Jim. “I‘ll let you get back to your dinner.”

Chekov nodded cheerfully and left to get his own food. After he had his tray he headed to the table that had the most ensigns seated around it. A spot was quickly shoved open for him.

Jim watched as Chekov was bombarded with questions nearly as soon as he sat down before he grinned and turned back to Spock. 

Spock had gone back to calmly eating his meal.

“At some point,” Jim told him, still smiling, “you‘re going to get used to hearing how much everyone on the ship likes you.”

Spock just gave him a cool look, though there was still a lingering spot of green on his cheeks that gave him away. 

Jim waited until he finished eating before reaching for Spock’s empty food tray, but for once Spock didn’t let him take it. Instead, Spock insisted on taking it to the recycler himself.

It was sign of Spock getting older and more independent. 

_He’ll be a teenager before too long,_ Then he had a worrying thought, _I just hope that he doesn’t start resenting me for sticking so close to him all the time._ He had no idea how he’d deal with that if it popped up.

He’d certainly hadn’t been the easiest teenager in the world to have raised. Thinking about those memories made Jim hope that Spock’s rebellion would be less spectacular than his own.

There were still parts of Riverside, Iowa that were littered with small craters as reminders of all the explosions Jim had set off during his teenage years. He was still rather proud of the one that had gone nearly five feet deep and ten feet wide, though his mother’s orchard had never quite recovered from that blast.

Jim dumped his own food tray in the recycler after Spock before they walked out the mess.

 _Surely, Sarek would have warned me if Spock’s adolescence was at all like that, right?_ That was a rather terrifying idea to consider, that Sarek wouldn‘t warn him about it. 

Distracted by such thoughts, Jim didn’t notice when Spock had the turbolift open up on the deck that held the officers quarters until he was walking off of it. He was taken off-guard because he’d thought that Spock would have wanted to head back to the Science Department.

“I need to change my attire once again,” said Spock, in response to Jim’s silent question. 

Jim considered the small science uniform that Spock was wearing. It had grown rather tight on the kid. 

Out of consideration to Spock’s desire to look as neat and tidy as possible before the eyes of his father, Jim had replicated a uniform that was more form-fitting than the loose clothes he’d gotten for him the last couple of times. Which meant, that after nearly age jumping to ten years old, Spock’s clothes had to be getting rather uncomfortable. 

“Spock, you should have said something earlier,” frowned Jim. 

“My comfort level had been within acceptable parameters for a long duration,” said Spock. Then his expression got a little tight. “Though, I underestimated my own rate of growth.”

Jim shook his head in fond exasperation. “Okay, Spock.”

Yeah, not really complaining about being uncomfortable. That was Spock alright.

Though, Jim also had to try to not to laugh out loud at the idea of Spock getting wedgies from his tight pants. If he laughed, Spock would be curious, then Jim would be forced to explain. Then he’d embarrass the boy. 

Jim was still trying to avoid that. 

He wasn’t able to resist grinning, though his smile dropped away as the door opened to the noise of a loud tribble. 

“Okay, I‘m beginning to think that Scotty gave you a defective furball,” said Jim, eyeing the brown tribble in its cage. 

It trilled louder as Spock walked up to it.

Jim rolled his eyes and went to get a new set of clothes for Spock from the replicator.

As Spock petted and calmed down the tribble, Jim paused and tried to think of the best outfit he could put Spock in. Then his eyes lit up with a thought. 

He chose a pair of black overalls, with a front pocket wide enough that Spock could stick his PADD in it. He also selected a long sleeved white shirt that was decorated with small tribbles of various colors. 

Jim was smirking as he ordered up everything. Including bigger shoes - sneakers this time - as well as underclothes. He also added a black jean jacket to the pile, for when they would head back out of Spock’s rooms and into the cooler temperature of the ship. 

He handed Spock the clothes and in exchange Spock gave him the tribble to hold while he changed in the restroom.

Jim patted the trilling animal as he decided since he was here he might as well try to narrow down the choices of movies for their movie marathon. He’d only managed to come up with a couple. And two movies did not make a marathon. 

He set the computer to run a search with the parameters that Bones had ordered. Though, Jim added an extra one. The movies in question were suppose to be significant on cultural basis too. The sort of movies that people still quoted and referenced after decades and decades since they were first produced. 

Jim was rather surprised that the list that the computer gave him. It was rather more extensive than he had thought it would be. He sent a copy of the list to Bones, hoping that he would help him narrow it down. Jim added a note of the movies he liked as well as the ones that he hadn’t seen yet. 

He double checked the time and sent Bones another message reminding him to bring popcorn. 

Jim found himself grinning in excitement. He was kind of dying to see how Spock would react to such movies as the Wizard of Oz or Willy Wonka or even the Princess Bride. 

Jim rather looked forward to the face that Spock would make when he first saw the dancing and singing munchkins. Or a even the flying monkeys.


	9. Chapter 9

The com beeped with a message which Jim clicked to open up and Yeoman Rand’s face filled the window.

“Captain Kirk, I have the reports that need to be signed off before you are unavailable for the rest of the day,” said Rand.

“Alright, Rand,” sighed Jim, “send them over.”

Another window opened to show a list of only seven reports. 

Jim’s eyebrows went up in surprise. 

On any given day there was an average ten to twenty reports to be signed off. And that was on a day during which nothing much happened and Jim still had a first officer who did part of the paperwork. On the more exciting days, reports could go over fifty and had even reached triple digits, depending on the state of the ship and the crew. 

Just the amount of paperwork generated the day of Nero’s attack on the Federation had produced over a 500 reports on the Enterprise, alone. And Jim had been stuck having to sign off on every single one.

Jim rather suspected it was that occasion which had provoked his deep and unrelenting hatred of all things paperwork.

Rand read his expression correctly. She added, “The other reports are not a priority, sir. So you can enjoy your movie night with Mr. Spock.”

“Well, thank you Yeoman Rand,” said Jim, touched. This was the first time that Rand had ever been lenient about getting those reports signed off. Once she’d even demanded signatures when he was stuck in sickbay with a broken leg waiting for Bones to get around to him after healing the other away team members. 

At that time, she’d pointed out at his arms were perfectly fine. 

“Captain, are you planning on viewing the movies in Mr. Spock‘s quarters?” asked Rand.

“Yeah,” said Jim. “Why do you ask?”

“Would it not be better to see them in Rec Room 3?” 

“That would be excellent, but even a captain has to wait the regular time on the rotation to have access to the big screen,” Jim said, wondering where she was going with this line of questioning. 

There were three recreation rooms on the Enterprise. One of them had a big screen and stage which were used to watch movies, for speeches and for plays because it had the best acoustics out of all three. That rec room was on a week long waiting period because of all the people that vied for its use. The other rec rooms were big enough that groups of people could share it and they had no waiting list. Rec Room 1 & 2 were the game rooms that had everything from mahjong, go, backgammon, various versions of chess and checkers, and other human and non-human board games. 

It even had a set of Vulcan kal-toh, though Jim hadn’t seen anyone other than Spock or Chekov touch the game in months.

“The Shakespeare Acting Club has agreed to relinquish their time slot to you, sir. They’ll meet up in Rec Room 2,” said Rand. 

Jim stared at her. Rec Room 2 had the pinball machines, pool tables and other louder interactive games. It would be the last place the Shakespeare Acting Club would chose to meet up. 

“Yeoman, you… did you ask them to do that?” asked Jim, frowning. “Because I-”

“No, sir!” she said, interrupting him. “Everyone knows that you have a movie night planned with Mr. Spock. They came up to me and volunteered their time slot for the commander.”

A slow wide smile spread across Jim’s face. He could feel his cheeks ache from the force of it.

_Now, we’re talking! A big screen is perfect and exactly what was missing!_

“That‘s great!” said Jim, enthused. “Pass on my thanks to everyone, will ya?” 

“Already done, captain,” said Rand. “The time slot opens up at 1800 hours to 2300.”

More than enough time to see several movies. 

“The reports _will_ need to be completed before this time,” added Rand, firmly. 

Jim gave her a sulky look. He sighed, “Fine, yeoman. They‘ll be in your com before then.”

Rand nodded in acceptance and signed off. 

Jim grumbled, only half-kidding in his threats to transfer her to another ship and opened up the first report. 

He had just finished signing it when Jim realized that Spock had still not emerged from the restroom. He frowned in worry, set the tribble on the computer desk and got up to walk to the locked entrance of the restroom. 

“Hey, Spock,” Jim called, rapping on the door with his knuckles. “You okay, in there kiddo?”

“I am in standard health,” Spock called back, his voice low and muffled through the door. “I am… simply having unexpected difficulty with the foot apparel.” 

“Oh, want to come out? I can help you with that,” said Jim, unable to resist grinning. 

The door opened and Spock reluctantly walked out. 

Jim bit his lower lip as he realized that while Spock had been able to get into the outfit that Jim had picked out just fine. For some reason the small white sneakers’ laces had managed to defeat the boy.

They were now tangled knots.

“I do not believe that these sort of foot apparel to be at all logical for standard use,” said Spock. He was practically frowning, a full blown frown of displeasure instead of his usual hint of a expression, down at his shoes. 

Jim had to bite down on his lip even harder now just to hold in his laughter. 

“I take it that Vulcan shoes don‘t normally come with laces?” asked Jim, dropping down to his knees. He encouraged Spock to lift up a foot and place it on Jim’s thigh. 

Spock watched him as Jim began delicately picking apart the knot. 

“No. It is more practical to use latches,” said Spock. “Or other methods of tightening.”

A pull on a lace made Spock wobble and he had to reach out to Jim’s shoulder to hold himself steady.

“Ah ha!” said Jim, as he got one sneaker to unknot. He promptly went and tied Spock’s shoe correctly. 

Spock eyed Jim’s fingers intently. As soon as Jim finished pulling the loops apart so that the shoe laces tightened. Spock pulled back. 

“I believe that I have a grasp on the necessary procedure,” said Spock, stoically. 

Jim smiled a him. “Okay, Spock. Well, I‘m here if you need me.”

Spock nodded and went to sit on a chair where he could pull up his leg to work on the still knotted sneaker. 

Jim went back to the computer. He grabbed the tribble which had wiggled closer to the computer‘s warmth. “Spock. Catch.” 

Spock looked up and saw the tribble arching through the air and trilling in alarm. 

He brought his hands up and caught the furry creature perfectly. 

“Nice catch,” said Jim, turning back to the computer.

“Jim!” Spock scolded. “That is no way to treat a living being.”

“Tribbles are tough,” said Jim with a grin as Spock made an aggrieve noise behind him while the tribble trilled as if to agree. 

Jim focused on the computer monitor. He only finished one more report when the com beeped with another incoming message. He opened a window to see Bones looking at him. 

“Have you ever seen Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory?!” shouted McCoy, without even a greeting or giving Jim the chance to say hello.

Jim blinked at him. “Yeah, Bones. Not since I was ten years old, though. What‘s up?”

McCoy grimaced. “It‘s a damn creepy movie, Jim.”

Jim stared at him in surprise. “Are we talking about the same movie here? Very old classic? Beloved of millions for centuries? A kid‘s movie about candy?”

“It‘s about a grown man, running a bunch of kids through the kinds of tests that would get him thrown in prison, these days,” said McCoy, with a frown. “It gave my little girl nightmares for weeks after she saw it.”

“Nightmares? What sort of nightmares?” asked Jim, tossing Spock a look. The last thing he wanted was Spock to have more nightmare fodder. 

Spock didn’t look up, having successfully tied his left over shoe he was now looking at the tricorder and scanning his shod feet. Then he shifted the tricorder to scan the tribble.

“She kept dreaming that bubblegum would turn her into a giant blueberry,” said McCoy, dryly. 

Jim turned back to him and grinned. “A blueberry?” 

“Big, round and blue. She dreamt that Wonka was having her juiced. I don‘t think she‘s touched a piece of gum, since,” continued McCoy. 

“Alright, Bones, go ahead and strike it off the list,” said Jim, unable to stifle a snicker. “Do you have any suggestion to take it‘s place?”

“I‘ll think of something.”

“You do that, and hey Bones,” said Jim. “The plan to meet up in Spock‘s quarters has been changed.”

“Oh?” asked McCoy, with interest.

“We‘ve got Rec Room 3 for movie night,” said Jim, smugly. 

McCoy’s eyebrow went up in surprise. “How‘d you manage to pull that off?”

“With my winning charm and sex appeal, of course!” said Jim, preening. 

“Yeah right, and my name is Queen Sheba,” said McCoy, sarcastically. “How‘d you really do it?”

Jim mock-scowled, then admitted. “The Shakespeare Club - you know the one that acts out scenes from the plays - had the slot so they went and gave us their time.”

“You mean gave the time slot for Spock,” corrected McCoy.

Jim nodded.

McCoy chuckled, “If you‘re not careful, Jim, the kid will go and replace you as captain. He‘s already has the crew under his thumb.”

Spock looked up at this from where he was reading his PADD. “Such an action of mutiny would be most illogical. I have not yet regained my memories of being Starfleet officer.”

McCoy heard Spock’s response and grinned at Jim. “So, when he gets those memories back…”

Jim rolled his eyes at his friend. He said amused, “See you at 1800 hours, Bones.”

“I‘ll be there,” said McCoy, and cut off the video feed.

“Doctor McCoy is highly incorrect in his assessment,” said Spock, with the corners of his mouth turning down.

“Oh, he‘s just teasing, He means no harm,” explained Jim, his tone reassuring. 

“I have had experience with fellow students who have also used his method of ‘teasing’. I have never considered it to be a positive experience,” said Spock, still looking skeptical.

Jim stared at Spock, taken aback by this revelation.

He’d never thought that Spock would have been bullied while growing up on Vulcan. It seemed like such an - well - illogical and emotional act. Even for Vulcan kids. 

_Damn. No wonder Spock is having such a hard time accepting all the affection from everyone. It isn‘t just that he not used to all that emotion but he‘s also not used to all the friendliness being poured on him,_ thought Jim, adding a few more mental swear words.

“Bullying,” said Jim, softly. “If not the same. Bullying is intended to hurt. To intimidate. Teasing is much more friendly.”

Spock just gave him a blank look. 

“Bones… well, he has a pretty gruff manner but he‘s not a bully. Though he does have a temper,” said Jim. He was uncertain as to what was the best way to explain his best friend to Spock. Even grownup Spock had a hard time dealing with Bones. “But he‘s a pretty gentle soul. He just don‘t get close to people, easily. And teasing is just a way of bonding among humans,” Jim finally summed up. “He‘s not being malicious about it.”

Spock’s brow furrowed. “I do not understand.”

Jim ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He was rather stuck on how to explain the depth of complexity that was one Leonard ‘Bones’ McCoy to a nine year old Vulcan. 

“Well, when he‘s demanding that I show up to be scanned for something or he hypos without warning, it‘s usually because he‘s concerned,” said Jim. “He‘s not the sort to go and tell me that he‘s worried about me. He‘ll usually just yell about it.”

“Would it not be more efficient simply to express this concern?” asked Spock.

“Probably, but that‘s not Bones‘ personality,” said Jim. “Once you know how to read what he really means instead of what he‘s saying then he‘s pretty easy to get along with.”

“Is this a human trait?” asked Spock, brows still furrowed a bit in puzzlement. “My mother did not express herself in this manner.”

“It‘s a trait for Bones,” answered Jim. “I‘m not sure if I‘d call it a human trait.”

“I will conduct research on the subject of human behavior for further information,” said Spock with a firm nod. 

“Or you could take notes on Bones when we meet up with him,” said Jim, smirking. 

_Oh, Bones is going to love that. Spock keeping an eye on him and taking notes on him. He‘ll explode one he finds out! And I‘ll be the one to get the earful,_ Jim thought, amused.

“An excellent suggestion, Jim,” said Spock. “A direct analysis would be most prudent.”

Jim just nodded, not trusting himself to speak in case he burst out laughing. 

_That’s one way to get the kid to pay attention to Bones, and not consider him a threat_ , Jim thought smugly. _I have the best ideas._

The computer beeped again, and Jim turned back around. This time it was a text message from Chekov with the list of promised ‘Russian’ classic movies. Nearly all, Jim noticed weren’t actually Russian. Though, the animated movie titled Anastasia was at least set in the right continent.

Jim quickly wrote him back a thank you and then he forwarded the list to Bones. That was the last interruption he got from others so Jim was able to finish the reports quickly and get them sent back to Rand.

“Hey, Spock,” said Jim. “I‘m done with it for now.” He stood up and stretched. “We‘ve got about ten minutes or so until we head over to Rec Room 3, so if you want to use the computer to look up anything, go ahead.”

Spock nodded, then he paused, “Would the tribble be allowed to accompany us into the recreational room?”

Jim looked at the ball of brown fur that has purring happily in Spock’s lap. 

“Yeah, why not?” said Jim. “ But it‘s not getting any popcorn!”  
*-*-*-*

So, Jim was rather amused at the very slow procession that they made walking through the halls of the starship because Spock kept scanning everything that caught his interest as they went along. 

Everything from the bulkhead, to carpet, to panels, and even the crew themselves. Crewmen and women would stop and allow themselves to be scanned by the boy, grinning the whole while before they moved on. 

A couple of the non-humans that they passed even stopped to answer a few questions posed by Spock, who very seriously recorded their answers on his PADD. He had to carry the PADD in his hands because the tribble rode along in the wide front pocket of Spock’s overalls. 

That was why, instead of showing up at 1800 hours like they’d planned, they reached Rec Room 3 at 1825.

“You‘re late!” said McCoy, frowning at them. “I was just about to give up on you and start the movies anyway.”

“Don‘t look at me,” said Jim, raising his hands up defensively.

“My apologies, Doctor McCoy,” said Spock, stiffly. His small shoulders were set back and his chin was up. “I did not intended to cause an inconvenience.”

Jim rather thought that the tribble shirt and the actual tribble ridding in Spock’s overalls kind of detracted a lot of severity from the cold expression on Spock’s face.

“Oh… well… that‘s okay,” said McCoy, flustered. His eyes were wide in surprise at what Spock was wearing. And from what Jim could read on is his face, Bones was getting the urge to ruffle the kid’s hair. 

Jim smirked at him. McCoy caught his look and glowered right back. Then his mouth twitched up and he cocked his head at Spock’s shirt. He mouthed at Jim, ‘Pictures?’

Jim nodded but then tore his gaze away from him to sniff the air. He instantly brightened. “Hey, you remembered the popcorn! Alright!”

McCoy grumped, “As if I could forget. You only sent me a billion reminders to bring it.”

“A billion is an improbable estimate,” said Spock, following behind Jim as he made a beeline for the plastic multi-colored tubs resting on a table.

“Well, he tried for it,” said McCoy, following after that. “And I knew that if I did manage to forget he‘d whine about it forever.”

“What kind did you get?” asked Jim as he ignored his friend’s griping. He popped open a blue opaque plastic container. Caramel popcorn gleamed up at him. A fresh waft of sweet and warm popcorn hit his nose. Jim licked his lips

“I figured that the kid hasn‘t tried it before, so I brought all the types I could think of,” answered McCoy. “Blue for caramel, yellow for butter and salt, white for plain, red for kettle, and orange for cheddar.”

“Hmm,” said Jim, reaching for the yellow plastic container. 

Instantly, McCoy slapped his reaching hand. 

“Hey!” yelped Jim. He cradled his stinging hand to his chest. “What was that for?”

Spock’s eyes were wide as he watched them. Jim gave him a reassuring wink. 

“How many times do I have to tell you? Your genetics show a tendency towards obesity. No butter for you,” scolded McCoy.

A look of understanding spread across Spock’s face. 

Jim gave McCoy his best aggrieved look. “Oh, come on, Bones. Do I look like I need to lose weight?” Jim gestured to himself. “I‘m the hottest captain in the fleet!”

McCoy just crossed his arms. 

Jim turned to his only ally in the room. “How about you, Spock? Don‘t you think that I look good? You agree with me that I don‘t need to lose weight, right?”

Spock’s eyes went wide again, caught off-guard by Jim’s question. A flush green rose in his cheeks. 

“Aw, leave the kid out of this,” said McCoy. He pointed a finger at Jim. “Just think of it this way. You want to keep your looks? Stay the hell away from the buttered popcorn.” And with that he picked up the plain popcorn and shoved it into Jim’s arms. 

Jim sulked, but held onto the container to keep it from dropping onto the deck. He opened it up and pulled out a handful of popcorn, and popped them in his mouth. 

_At least, it’s not unsalted._

“Kid, you can have any pick of the popcorn you want. You can try them all,” said McCoy gently. “I‘d recommend the kettle corn, though.”

“I‘ll get the movie set up to play,” sighed Jim, leaving Spock to look over the popcorn carefully. He had to get away before gave in and snatched a grab of the butter popcorn. 

_Damn it, Bones! You could at least have stuck the lid back on it._ The scent of it was going to drive him crazy, Jim just knew it.

A snort of amusement made him look up from the computer to see Bones fighting back a laugh as he watched Spock pull out his tricorder to scan all the types of popcorn.

Jim smiled fondly at them both and set the computer to start the movie in a few minutes. He rather thought that Spock would need the time to finish his analysis of the snacks.

“Did you bring any soda?” asked Jim, around a mouthful of kernels.

McCoy grimaced at him. “No, pop isn‘t any better for you than butter, Jim. You‘ve got a choice of water or apple juice.”

“Water and plain popcorn,” complained Jim. “That‘s practically the same as bread and water. Are you sure this isn‘t some torture regime you‘ve set up for me? What have I ever do to you?”

“You want a list?”

“Doctor McCoy is seeking to enforce a dietary change to benefit your health,” chimed in Spock, he was practically frowning at this tricorder. “According to these scans the buttered popcorn has more than the recommended daily intake saturated hydrocarbon fatty acids.”

“Now, you‘re just tormenting me,” groaned Jim, thinking of all that tasty butter. 

Spock looked up, his slanted eyebrows lifting a bit. “I am not. I would never do such a thing.”

“Ignore him, he‘s teasing you,” said McCoy , as he bent down and pulled a small cooler from under the table. He pulled out a bottle of beer and handed Jim a bottle of apple juice. “That‘s what I do when he‘s being brat, kid.”

Jim pointedly glared at the beer in McCoy’s hands. McCoy just as pointedly, ignored him.

Spock blinked. 

Jim smiled at him, then said to McCoy. “Keep it up, Bones. See if I invite you to another movie night anytime soon.”

McCoy rolled his eyes. 

Spock grabbed the kettle popcorn as McCoy had recommended. He then followed Jim to the seats where Jim had retreated to sulk and mentally swear at his best friend.

Jim had deliberately set out three seats for them to use, and had sat in the far right so that Spock would have the choice of sitting between him and Bones or only next to Bones. From the hesitation that Jim saw, it was clear that the kid wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about the choices. But he went and sat in the middle, just like Jim had thought he would.

The chairs had built in cup holders, one per arm, and Jim watched in amusement as Spock carefully put his water in one and the tribble in the other. Fortunately, the tribble was small enough that it fit without difficulty. The red tub of kettle popcorn went down near his feet. Spock also set the tricorder on the deck as he shoved the PADD into the front pocket that had just recently held the tribble.

“Still carrying the thing around, I see,” observed McCoy. 

“Mr. Scott has yet to request that I return his pet to him,” said Spock, calmly. 

“That‘s good,” said McCoy, clearly stalled on what to say to Spock. 

_Hell,_ thought Jim, greatly amused at his friend. _He’s more used to shouting at Spock, not at all in making small talk with him._

Spock didn’t look particularly reassured at having to sit next to McCoy either. 

“Don‘t worry, Spock, Bones doesn‘t bite,” said Jim, with a grin. “Oh, wait. I forgot. There was that one time.”

Spock’s brown eyes went wide and he shot McCoy a startled look, that was swiftly hidden away. 

McCoy saw it though, and it made him smile before he rolled his eyes at Jim. 

“Oh, for crying out loud, how many times do I have to tell you, Jim? That was your fault,” said McCoy. He turned to Spock. “He‘d gotten into a fight with an alien that had - not only four arms - but twice the strength of a human.”

Spock looked at Jim as if to verify this.

Jim shrugged, “I still say I could have taken him.”

“Jim, you were so drunk that he had you pinned up against the bar with one hand while he punched you with the other, and kept you from kicking him with the other two,” said McCoy, dryly. 

“You were just as drunk, which is why you bit him. Right on the arm that was holding me,” said Jim. 

“It was the only thing in reach from my stool,” muttered McCoy. 

“What Bones wasn‘t expecting,” said Jim to Spock, “was that biting was a proposal of marriage to that guy‘s people.”

McCoy’s face turned red. 

“At least, he stopped beating you up,” he said defensively, still blushing at the reminder of that. He’s been too drunk to protest the alien man grabbing him and dragging him out of the bar in acceptance of his accidental proposal.

“I had to rescue him before the guy took him to the nearest government registry office,” said Jim, grinning. “I got there just in time to stop the wedding. Barely.”

Spock’s eyes were wider than ever.

“See, so there‘s no way that McCoy will ever bite anyone again,” concluded Jim.

“You are teasing him,” observed Spock, after a moment. “The way that he teased you.”

“It‘s what friends do,” said McCoy.

Spock nodded, in if not understanding of this human behavior then at least in acceptance of it.

And more importantly, Jim noted, he looked a helluva lot more relaxed that he had when Bones had sat next to him. Jim felt pleased that some of the aversion that Spock had been feeling for McCoy had waned away with that story.

Which had been the point of him telling it. It’s hard to be scared of someone when you had evidence that they made silly mistakes like that.

McCoy had noticed Spock’s reaction too, and there was a small delighted smile on his face.

Then the lights of Rec Room 3 dimmed down, and the big screen went white and then black as The Wizard of Oz began to play. Spock pulled his PADD out of his pocket. 

“We‘ve both seen this movie before Spock, so if you have any questions go ahead and ask us,” said Jim.

“Very well,” said Spock. Interestingly enough, Spock didn’t say a peep for the first few minutes. 

“When was this movie produced?” 

“1939, Earth-time,” answered McCoy. 

“It‘s among the oldest movies to have survived to this century.” said Jim. 

Spock nodded and made a note on his PADD.

Jim spent more time watching Spock than watching the movie. Like he said, he’s already seen it before. Watching Spock see it for the first time, on the other hand, was brand spanking new.

“Why did Professor Marvel tell an untruth about his ability to foresee the future?” asked Spock, with a frown at the corners of his lips. “It is clear that he has no such talent.”

“He‘s a charlatan,” said McCoy, before Jim could speak. 

“He‘s an entertainer,” said Jim, in defense of the old man. “He‘s a good guy though, that‘s why he said what he said. So Dorothy would decide for herself to go back home.”

Spock took more notes. Jim and McCoy exchanged grins over his bowed head. 

If Spock was reacting like this at the beginning of the movie, how in the world was he going to take the witches? Or even a scarecrow with no brain?

Spock straightened up in his chair as Dorothy’s house was sucked into the twister. “That is impossible. The wind speed necessary to lift an entire domicile would have also destroyed it.”

Jim smiled, “A lot of the movie isn‘t going to be realistic.”

“That‘s part of the fun,” added McCoy. He pointed at the screen where Dorothy was waving at an old woman in a chair as she flew by in the twister. “That wouldn‘t happen in real life, either.”

As Dorothy walked into a new world of bright color compared to the sepia of her normal life in Kansas, and gave her famous line about not being in Kansas anymore to her dog, Spock’s note taking waned as he watched in fascination. 

“I was not aware that the technology for force fields was available in 20th century Earth,” said Spock, as Glenda floated down in her big pink bubble. 

“It wasn‘t,” said Jim. “A lot of the effects were done through camera trickery. Later in the century, it’s done with computers.”

“Interesting,” said Spock. 

“What? Not fascinating?” asked McCoy. 

“No. Merely interesting. I shall have to look up in the computer archives to see how such effects were achieved without computers,” said Spock. 

The expression that Spock made at the dancing and singing munchkins was just as hilarious as Jim had thought it would be. Spock looked like he wanted to cringe but Vulcan stoicism refused to let him.

“Not the most melodious of voices,” muttered Spock, sounding almost grumpy. 

“Too high-pitched for you?” asked Jim, feeling sympathetic as Spock winced when the trio of Lullaby League dancers came out.

“We can lower the volume,” volunteered McCoy, making movements to get up. 

Spock shook his head. “That will be unnecessary, I simply had not expected such a high vocal range but now I have adjusted.”

McCoy nodded and settled back in his chair. “You got to tell us if it gets to you,” he scolded. 

But Spock was just paying attention to the movie again.

When the Wicked Witch appeared in a puff of red smoke, Spock nearly dropped the PADD. The eerie music that accompanied her made the tribble trill urgently in its cup holder until Spock petted it.

“First contact on Earth was between humans and Vulcans,” said Spock, his voice sounding rather stunned. “How is it possible for an Orion to have been on Earth at the time this was produced?”

“It‘s make-up,” said Jim, amused. 

“I do not understand,” said Spock, turning to face him.

“It’s a way of making non-medical alterations on a human, so it‘s not so obvious that they are human,” added McCoy.

“So the appearance of the green woman, who could easily pass for an Orion, is coincidence?” asked Spock, looking from Jim to McCoy and back.

“Yup,” said Jim. “Just human imagination running wild.”

“… fascinating,” said Spock. He leaned forward as the movie merrily continued. 

McCoy tossed Jim a smirk and mouthed ‘now it’s fascinating’ at him. Jim grinned right back.

“How could a humanoid sentient being be able to converse without a brain?” asked Spock, his brow furrowing in confusion as he watched the Scarecrow explain to Dorothy his particular problem. “This is a highly unlikely scenario.”

Jim nearly grinned at the petulant tone in Spock’s voice. 

“Are you saying that now one can move around and talk without a brain?” asked McCoy. “In all the wide crazy universe, it can never happen?”

Spock said primly, “The probabilities of such an situation occurring is too low for me to provide an accurate number.”

Jim just stifled a laugh at the expression on Bones’ face at Spock’s rejoinder. 

McCoy crossed his arms and said smugly to Spock, “I‘ll remember you said that.”


	10. Chapter 10

“It would be detrimental to your position if your memory is so ineffectual that you would forget so easily,” said Spock, looking calmly at McCoy before shifting his gaze back to the screen. 

He then inhaled sharply as the Wicked Witch was shown hiding behind a tree, clearly startled by the loud clang of music that accompanied her appearance.

Jim didn’t bother stifling a snicker as Bones’ face went from smug to outraged. When he saw Jim’s amused expression, McCoy raised his eyebrow at him and took a swallow from his beer bottle, making a point of smacking his lips.

Jim grimaced at him and sulked in his chair, grabbing a fistful of his plain popcorn and munching on it. McCoy smirked and Jim tossed a kernel at his head. McCoy made a face at him. Now, Jim was the one to smirk in triumph.

Bones hadn’t grabbed any popcorn. In this battle, Jim was the one with all the ammunition.

Jim watched Spock’s eyes go a little wide as he watched the apple tree scold Dorothy for trying to take a big red apple from his branches. 

“Why would the Scarecrow think that he needs a brain?” asked Spock, as he saw the Scarecrow start chasing down the apples he’d gotten the trees to toss at them. “It is clear that he has more than adequate problem solving abilities.”

“I think that he thinks he needs to be better than how he is,” said Jim, slowly. 

“I always thought that he wanted to be more human,” protested McCoy. 

Spock looked at McCoy then over at Jim. 

Jim shrugged at him. “It really is kind of interpretive.”

“I see,” said Spock, thoughtfully. His attention went back to the screen as Dorothy banged on metal and exclaimed that she’d found a man made out of tin.

“How would she know with certainly that the metal is tin?” asked Spock, frowning. “She has no method of scanning to be being certain of her theory. It is possible that the metal could be another, or even an alloy.”

“I think she just knows because tin is a pretty common metal,” said McCoy. 

“Yeah, you can find a lot of it on a farm,” added Jim, around his mouthful of popcorn. 

Spock nodded and watched as Dorothy and the Scarecrow managed to get the Tin Man moving again with many applications of oil. 

“Tin is a substance that prevents corrosion,” said Spock, his brows scrunching together in confusion. “If that being is truly made out of that metal than he would not have been stuck in that position.”

“Maybe, he‘s just tin coated,” said McCoy. “I don‘t know. I‘m a doctor, not a metallurgist.”

Jim laughed, “I think it‘s time to explain plot-holes.” He quickly explained to Spock that sometimes the story had flaws, or mistakes that weren’t caught when produced or hand-waved away in order to allow the story to occur. 

“It seems to me to be a rather poor excuse for errors in the narrative,” said Spock, his expression severe. 

“It happens,” said Jim with a shrug. “The whole thing about knowing tin doesn‘t corrode so easily is one of those things that most people may not know. And human children, certainly won‘t know. Not on average at least.”

Spock nodded slowly. “So, such fiction requires a suspension of the knowledge of reality.”

“We call a suspension of disbelief,” said McCoy. “Otherwise than we‘d be stopped accepting the story when she got sucked up into the twister.”

“Pretty much,” said Jim, nodding. “As long as the story makes sense to itself than we‘ll keep going with it. Though usually the best stories have the least of those sort of mistakes.”

Spock nodded again and returned to watching the screen where the tin man was singing over not having a heart. 

The scowl on Spock’s face was deeper than usual. “It is clear that this Tin Man does experience emotions. Why would be consider he needs a physical heart in order to express them? He certainly does not have any trouble in that regard.”

“Humans have thought that the root of emotions lays in our hearts,” said Jim. “So, the Tin Man is just expressing that idea. It‘s simpler to say that he wants a heart then anything else.”

“We know that they really are bio-chemical reactions in the brain,” said McCoy with a chuckle as Spock looked skeptical. “The heart is symbolic.”

“Also, I think it‘s suppose to be funny,” added Jim. “He wants a heart to feel emotions while it‘s clear that he has them. So, the contrast of his words and his actions is pretty hilarious.”

Before Spock could respond to this revelation, they all jumped as a loud cackle blasted from the speakers. The tribble wiggled desperately in its cup holder, trilling in alarm. 

“You and me both,” said McCoy to the little furry creature as the Wicked Witch laughed and mocked Dorothy, the Scarecrow and the Tin Man. He petted it to calm it down while Spock stared at the screen in muted alarm, clutching the PADD rather close to his face as if he was just resisting the urge to hide behind it.

Jim rolled his eyes at his own startled reaction and brushed away the popcorn kernels that had landed on him to the deck. A starship captain was not afraid of fictional witch.

Spock swallowed audibly as the Witch threw a fire ball at the Scarecrow‘s feet.

“She is clearly a dangerous individual,” said Spock, his brown eyes wide again. “Why has she not been apprehended, or sanctioned for her violent actions?”

“If we go by what the movie shows, she‘s probably too powerful for the people of Oz to stop her,” said McCoy, frowning at the screen. “I can‘t be too sure. It‘s been a while since I‘ve seen this movie.” 

“They never show if Oz has a unified governing body,” said Jim, trying to remember too. “So, that may just not be a possibility.”

“It is represented as a different culture,” admitted Spock, slowly. “It would be in error to assume that they have the same policing structures as can be found on Vulcan.”

“Or Earth,” said McCoy. 

They watched Scarecrow and the Tin Man declare their intentions to see that Dorothy gets to see the Wizard so matter what because they wouldn’t stand to be threatened. Then the trio walked into a forest. 

“The description of a forest as being ‘dark and creepy’ is not at all useful information,” said Spock, having paused in the middle of taking notes.

Jim grinned at the slight irritation coloring the tone of his voice. 

McCoy chucked and pointed at the forest scene where the trio were chanting ‘lions, tigers and bears, oh my’ in fear. “I think dark and creepy pretty much covers it.”

The loud roar that blasted from the speaks was an unexpected piece of support for his words. 

Spock wrote in his PADD as the trio scattered before the bounding Lion, only pausing to stare at the screen when the Lion stood up straight. 

“What is the significance of the phrase ‘put them up’?” he asked, shooting Jim an inquiring look. 

“He‘s asking them to fight,” said Jim. He put up his own fists in demonstration, miming a jab in Spock’s direction then at Bones. “See, it‘s a pretty well known stance in boxing, because of the way that the hands are up near the face to provide defense.” He moved back and forth as if to avoid an incoming punch.

“He would know,” said McCoy, dryly. 

Spock raised an eyebrow at McCoy, then looked back to Jim. 

Jim made a face at his best friend before grudgingly explaining to Spock. “I got into a lot of fights before I joined Starfleet.”

“Even after joining Starfleet,” muttered McCoy, not even trying for under his breath. 

Jim shot him a glare but McCoy just grinned and drank from his beer bottle. 

“So, it is a stance that would be easily recognized,” said Spock, slowly. 

“Yeah,” said Jim. “Even now, boxing is pretty widespread, all over Earth. Boxing is still taught as a fighting technique as well as a sport. Though different cultures have their own versions of it.”

Spock carefully wrote down what Jim said in his PADD and turned back to the screen. 

Jim watched in interest as Spock went still when Dorothy struck the Lion in order to protect her dog.

“Good for her,” said McCoy, raising his beer up in a toast. 

Spock turned to stare at him. “You support her violent action? Why?”

McCoy stared back clearly caught off guard by the question. “Well… because she‘s protecting Toto. She cares for him and won‘t stand to have someone picking on him. She was scared silly until she got too angry to be scared anymore.”

“And you approve of this anger?” asked Spock, his head tilting. 

“When it’s for a good cause!” said McCoy. “The Lion was being a bully and deserved it.”

“So you consider violent actions to be a logical response to bullying?” asked Spock, his brow furrowing enough for a small line to appear between his slanted eyebrows. 

“Well, within reason,” admitted McCoy. 

On screen, the Lion was now sobbing and clutching his tail as he lamented his lack of courage.

Spock looked bewildered at this. “He was previously very aggressive in his actions. Why would he now be showing such emotions?”

“Well, Dorothy stood up to him,” said Jim. 

“And the whole point is that he‘s a coward,” added McCoy. 

“Bullies are cowards,” said Jim, nodding in agreement. He remembered what Spock had said earlier about the malicious teasing that he’d experienced. “They pick on someone they consider to be weaker than themselves, even if that‘s not necessarily true. So, when someone stands up to them, like Dorothy just did. They‘ll usually back down.”

Spock dropped his eyes to PADD. He nodded in agreement and asked softly, “Even if they are in numbers greater than one?”

McCoy’s eyes went wide and he shot Jim a startled look. He nodded at McCoy to show that he caught that too. 

_Bones looks like he just understood something. Something he’s never gotten about Spock before,_ thought Jim. He wondered with building anger at how many Vulcan kids had picked on Spock as the boy had grown up. And why in the hell hadn’t the oh-so-logical grownups done nothing to stop it.

Then he breathed out his anger in a slow long sigh. There was no point in getting mad about it now. _The chances that anyone who’d known or been involved in Spock’s bullying is even alive anymore is low. As Spock says, too low to even calculate._

“That‘s usually trickier,” said Jim, quietly. “It‘s harder to fight too many at once, but yeah. The same principle applies there too.”

“Those are the worst sort,” said McCoy, his voice gentle. He then sat back in his chair, the beer dangling from his fingers and a frown at his lips. He shot Jim another look and raised a eyebrow, silently asking if he’d known about the bullying.

“Yeah,” agreed Jim. He shook his head silently at McCoy, and mouthed ‘later’ at him over the kid’s head. This wasn’t the time to talk about it. Though, Jim knew that he and Bones would end up discussing it, and probably anything else that he found out about Spock, much later on. Just not right now.

Spock acknowledged their words by raising his eyes up to the screen again, though he didn’t say a word in reaction. He did reach out to pet the tribble until the animal purred and wiggled in delight.

It soothing affects made the last of the tension in the boy melt away.

Knowing what was coming next, Jim eagerly watched Spock’s face as the Wicked Witch cackled about poison with her flying monkey. 

“Is the blue simian a sentient creature?” asked Spock. 

Jim blinked, surprised by the nature of the question. “I think so, they do take directions much better than a non-sentient animal would.”

“Fascinating,” said Spock, and wrote something in his PADD.

“What‘s so fascinating this time?” asked McCoy, leaning over to look down at Spock’s PADD. 

Spock blinked at him. “So far there have been eight different sentient beings represented in the film.”

“That many?” asked Jim. He did a silent count and came up with seven. “What are they?”

“The munchkins, the Good Witch, the Wicked Witch, the Scarecrow, the apple trees, the Tin Man, the Lion and now the blue winged simians,” recited Spock. “I consider both witches to represent different sentient races because of the divergent skin color. Though, it is just a theory. I would have to do further research to be certain that the difference is not genetic.”

McCoy chuckled. “Kid, if you manage to get more information about it, then you certainly are taking it more seriously than I ever did at your age. I don‘t even think that kind of info is out there.”

“It could be,” Jim disagreed. “The movie is suppose to be based on a book, right? I think there are book sequels.”

On screen, the group had just come upon the glittering green vision of the Emerald City. 

“The movie is based upon a work of literature?” asked Spock, his eyebrows went up in surprise. “I did not consider that a possibility.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Jim. “A lot of movies are made which are based on books.”

“And there are further stories in this setting?” asked Spock, with a glance over to the screen where Dorothy and the Lion were falling asleep in a field of poppies. 

“Yeah, but don‘t ask me what they‘re about,” said Jim, with a head shake. “I haven‘t actually read them.”

“Neither have I,” said McCoy, as Spock turned to him. 

The shouts of alarms made them all turn to the screen. The Scarecrow scolded the Tin Man for crying for help when no one was around to listen and then promptly did the same thing himself. 

Surprised by the comedic timing, Jim laughed.

Spock turned to him, “The situation is dire yet you find a source of amusement. Why is the situation humorous?”

Jim grinned, “It‘s what he said, when he said it. The contrast makes it funny.”

“Humans find humor in bad situations for relief,” added McCoy. “It makes it easier to deal with.”

“Not always, of course,” said Jim, thinking about the sort of bad things they’d run into while serving on the Enterprise. “But a lot of times it helps.”

Spock nodded and carefully wrote down both their answers. For the next several scenes, Spock didn’t react. Even when McCoy snorted in amusement at the visual joke of a horse of a different color. 

Jim looked back to the entrance of the Rec Room because he’d heard the door swish open. 

Rand walked in and swiftly reached his side. “Sorry to have to interrupt your movie night, Captain. But you need to see this.” She held up her PADD.

Jim stood up, waved at Bones and Spock to go back to enjoying the movie. He and Rand went to the table. It was far enough away from the screen that their whispers shouldn’t interfere.

“What is it, yeoman?”

She handed him her PADD. “Mr. Sulu sent up this report, sir. He said it was your decision.”

Jim took it and opened up the report with a touch on the screen. He read it quickly, his eyebrows going up higher and higher by the time he got to the end. 

Jim looked towards Spock, then back down to the PADD and frowned at it.

“Thanks, yeoman,” Jim finally sighed, even after a second read didn‘t change the contents. He signed off that he received the report. “Tell whoever is the current bridge office in charge, that I‘ll have a decision within the hour.”

“Yes, sir,” said Rand, collecting the PADD and nodded before she smartly turning away and out the door.

Jim ran a hand through his hair and grumbled to himself.

Bones glanced up as Jim sat back down. “What is it, Jim?”

Spock looked away from where the Lion was singing about courage to also look at Jim.

“I‘ll tell you guys after the movie,” said Jim, to both of them. Spock nodded in acceptance.

McCoy crossed his arms and gave Jim a searching look. He knew that Rand wouldn’t have interrupted them without good reason. Jim just shook his head. 

Jim was more distracted by his thoughts that the next scenes of the movie flew by. The aggressive music that came with the scene involving the first appearance of the Wizard made him pay attention to the movie again. He looked over to see Spock petting the tribble, his eyes a bit wide, the PADD laying forgotten on his lap as he watched the quartet on screen tremble in fear.

The Wizard’s demand that they get him the Wicked Witch’s broomstick made Spock’s eyebrow rise up.

“He requests such a task, even knowing that it is dangerous and could lead to their deaths,” said Spock, his mouth turning down at the corners. “That is an irresponsible test.”

“Well, he needs to know that they‘re sincere,” said McCoy. “He probably gets tons of requests, all the time. Though, I agree with you, he certainly needs a better vetting process.”

On screen, they had just come upon the sign of the Haunted Forest, with it’s added opinion that they should turn back now. 

Bones laughed as the Lion, in the attempt to run away, ended up being carried by the Scarecrow and the Tin Man back to Dorothy while his feet ran rapidly in mid-air and getting nowhere.

Spock jumped at the Tin Man was jerked up into the air by nothing and then dropped with a clang. The winged monkeys were then revealed as Dorothy and the others panicked.

“I do not believe that their winged appendages are of sufficient width to achieve flight,” said Spock, his brows furrowed as the winged monkeys flew out with Dorothy and Toto. “Much less so when carrying the weight of nearly fully grown human female.”

“More suspension of disbelief,” said McCoy, in amusement. 

Jim involuntarily laughed when the Scarecrow, having explained that his straw was scattered was accused by the Tin Man of that ‘being him all over’.

“More humor during less than ideal situations?” asked Spock, his head tilting at Jim. 

“Yeah, not a bad joke either,” said Jim, grinning

On screen the Wicked Witch attempted to blackmail Dorothy into giving up the ruby slippers by threatening the life of her dog. 

Spock went pale as the Witch mentioned that she’d forgotten that the only way to remove the slippers was for Dorothy to die. He reached out for Jim’s hand in a move that looked to Jim to be involuntary. Jim held onto Spock’s hand, giving it a soft squeeze of reassurance.

McCoy peered at them and grinned at the sight. Jim ignored him.

“The guards appear to be of the same species as the Witch of the West,” said Spock, when the guards of the Wicked Witch appeared to chase down Toto, their green skins barely visible under their bulky uniforms.

Jim was rather delighted when Spock left his small hand in his own bigger grip even after the movie shifted back to the Scarecrow, the Tin Man and the Lion. Though, the grip did get rather painfully tight - enough to make him wince - as the Witch and her guards chased Dorothy and her friends around the castle.

When the chase culminated in the Witch setting the Scarecrow on fire, Spock literally gasped surprise when Dorothy threw that pail of water and caught the Witch in the splash. 

“She killed her,” said Spock, staring at the screen. “I did not consider that to be possible outcome.”

“You didn‘t?” asked Jim, in surprise. 

“Yeah, why not, Spock?” asked McCoy, curiously. 

“Dorothy does not have an aggressive personality outside of when she seeks to protects others,” said Spock. 

As if to verify Spock’s analysis of Dorothy’s character, she apologized to the guards for the death of the Witch. 

Spock nodded in acceptance. “That is within the previous established parameters of the storyline.”

They watched the grinning and proud quartet bring the broomstick to the Wizard of Oz, expecting to have their requests granted, only to be told to return the next day. 

“He is not honoring their agreement,” said Spock, sounding rather scandalized. 

“No, he‘s not,” agreed Jim, amused at the expression on Spock’s face. 

“I don‘t blame them for being upset about it,” said McCoy, as the four threw up a fuss.

When Toto revealed the man behind the curtain, Spock stared again. 

“So, the entire time he has been presenting himself as being more powerful than he actually is?” he said, a tone of bafflement in his voice. 

“Yup,” said Jim. He then made a swiftly hidden disappointed face when Spock pulled his hand free so that he could type rapidly into his PADD.

Spock made what sounded almost like a giggle as the Wizard gave the Scarecrow his honorary degree of thinkology. 

Both Jim and McCoy stared at him in shock, but the boy’s face was blank and still as stone. 

“Did he just laugh?” asked McCoy, sounding rather dazed at just the idea of it.

“Vulcans do not laugh,” said Spock, primly. 

Jim just grinned because Spock had laughed - or to be more accurate - he’d giggled. And just the thought that Spock had let loose such a noise was rather amazing in his opinion. 

He was suddenly rather sorry that he didn’t set up the computer to record Spock’s reactions. Oh, to have had that bit of proof when Spock was back to his adult self would have been perfect.

When the Wizard told the Tin Man that hearts would only be practical if they could be made unbreakable, McCoy raised his nearly empty bottle of beer in a toast. “You said it!” 

Spock looked at McCoy with a raised eyebrow before turning to Jim when he didn’t get an answer. 

“It‘s a long story,” said Jim to him. Not wanting to get into the details of Bones’ divorce, right now. “I‘ll tell you later.”

The Wizard was just revealing that he had come from Kansas himself and he would be able to get Dorothy back in the same hot air balloon that had made him first land in Oz. 

“The phrase ‘E pluribus unum’ is Latin, an ancient Earth language,” said Spock, thoughtfully. “It means, ‘out of many, one‘, yet why would the Wizard refer to Kansas by this?”

“Because it‘s a motto of the United States,” explained Jim, “it was one of the many countries that existed before Earth united under one governmental body.”

“And it‘s where Kansas could and still can be found,” added McCoy. “Both Jim and I hail from the former good ol‘ USA, that‘s why we know it. It‘s still in our history books.”

Spock continued to watch the movie intently but he didn’t have any more questions until Glinda reappeared in her big pink bubble and explained to Dorothy that she’d always had the power to go back. 

“Then why was it necessary for her to travel down the path of the yellow brick road?” asked Spock. 

“Listen,” said Jim, softly. “Dorothy explains.”

As Dorothy worked out the reason as to why she needed to discover her own desire to return home, not just to see her aunt and uncle but because she really wanted to be there, understanding lit up Spock’s face.

Though, the puzzlement returned to Spock’s face when Dorothy woke up back in Kansas, as if she’s never been anywhere at all. 

As her last words echoed through the recreation room, Spock turned back to Jim. 

“I don‘t understand,” said Spock. “The main theme appears to be that home is important even at the expense of exploration. But humans constantly reach out beyond the boundaries of what they know in order to explore and expand their knowledge. The movie is contradictory of human nature.”

Jim considered this thoughtfully. Spock did have a point. “That‘s one way to look at it.”

“I always thought it was trying to say that friends and family are important,” said McCoy. 

Jim nodded. “Also, that you should appreciate what you have. The same way that the Lion, the Tin Man and the Scarecrow always had the one single feature that they wanted the most but they just couldn’t see it.”

McCoy snorted, “I always thought that they were just being too blind, and needed validation.”

“It is deeply interpretive,” said Spock, thoughtfully. “Fascinating. It would make it similar to the interpretation brought to bear upon art work such as paintings or sculpture. The intended message can change dependent upon the nature of the viewer.”

Jim blinked in surprise. “I guess that‘s right. I just never thought of movies in that way before.”

“That’s because it’s kind of hard to get interpretive about the hidden message in those B-movies, you like,” said McCoy, dryly. 

The credits scrolled to an end and the screen went black. The lights that had dimmed when the movie first started slowly went back up to full brightness. 

“Before you start the next movie, I need to hit the head,” said McCoy, prying himself out of the chair a groan. Three empty beer bottles littered the deck by his feet. 

Jim wondered when in the hell Bones had snuck off to get more of them and how he had managed not to notice before he smirked at his friend. “That‘s what you get for drinking without sharing.”

McCoy just rolled his eyes before vanishing into the attached restroom. Jim made certain that the computer didn’t start the next movie yet.

Spock, finally put away the PADD and opened up the red plastic tub of kettle popcorn. He began eating it, pulling out one kernel examine it before he nibbled at it thoughtfully. As soon as he was done with it, he promptly pulled out another one. 

The corners of his mouth went up in evident enjoyment.

“I guess you like that,” said Jim. 

“This variation of popcorn as subtle sweet and salty flavors,” said Spock, eating another kernel. “The amount of sweet to savory differs from kernel to kernel in a pleasant manner.”

“Bones made a good suggestion,” said Jim. 

“I agree,” said Spock with a nod. 

McCoy came back and gave Jim severe look. “Now, would you tell me what was up with Rand showing up like that? And don‘t tell me it was nothing because I won‘t believe you.”

“Sulu sent up a request. The leaders of the Cromtic want to see Spock,” said Jim. “So, he‘s hoping he could come down to the planet with him.”

“What the hell for?” asked McCoy, scowling.

“You know how Sulu is negotiating with their council for permission to let Starfleet set up a starbase in their system?” asked Jim. 

“Yeah, so what does that have to do with wanting to meet the kid?”

“Well, they’re concerned about the lack of progress that we‘re having in ageing Spock up to his normal age,” said Jim, frustrated. “And so they want to double check him before they agree to the starbase. Apparently, they don’t think much of the fact that it’s been over twenty-four hours since he’s been changed and he’s still a kid. I think that they think that something has to be wrong with us, for not being able to make a kid happy.”

Spock expression went blank. 

It made Jim straighten up. “Hey, Spock, it isn‘t your fault.”

“I could agree the using the age reversal machine,” said Spock, his tone expressionless. 

“That’s not necessary, kiddo,” said Jim. “It‘s just that these people aren‘t used to Vulcans and are expecting you to be able to jump back in age as if you were one of their own. They don‘t know that Vulcans have such a high value on emotional control.”

“Did Sulu try to explain?” asked McCoy. 

“He did, but they still want to see Spock,” said Jim. “That‘s why you have to clear me to go down to the planet.”

“Damn it, Jim,” glared McCoy. “I just cleared you for light duties only the other day and I only did that because we don’t have a first officer. You sure as hell aren’t ready to be cleared for away missions.”

“We’ve got no choice about it, Bones. I‘m not letting Spock down there without me,” said Jim, firmly.

“And why is Spock even going down there, at all?” asked McCoy, exasperated.

“Because the starbase is important or Starfleet Command wouldn’t have sent its flagship on this mission,” said Spock, softly. 

“Yeah,” agreed Jim. 

Spock raised his chin. “Jim, if it is necessary for me to go down to the planet alone then I will do so.”

“And who says I‘ve cleared you for that either,” said McCoy, glowering at both of them. 

Jim just looked at him until Bones threw his hands in the air in exasperation. “Fine! But I‘m going to need to have to check you over in my sickbay first. And I‘m going down with you, just in case.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Jim, smiling. “We won‘t need to be down there until morning. Sulu knows the schedule the ship is under and he told the Cromtician Council that we wouldn‘t be available until then.”

“Good,” said McCoy, grumpily. “That‘s better than nothing.”

“Come on, Bones,” said Jim, cheerfully. “You‘ve been down to the planet, stop making it sound like all hell will break loose.”

McCoy gave him a dry look. “Are you kidding me, Jim? You‘re going down there. Of course, all hell is going to break loose. I‘m just worried at how deep of a level of trouble you‘ll land us all in.”

Spock looked from McCoy to Jim then back to McCoy as the conversation continued. Jim smiled at him. 

“I‘m not that bad, Bones,” he said, amused. “Just because a few times that I‘ve been on away missions it doesn‘t mean that I get in trouble every time.”

“Oh, really? Do you want me to tell the kid of that one time you ended up being kidnapped by those crazy fans of yours?” asked McCoy. “And that happened on Earth, of all places.”

Spock’s eyes went wide and the look he shot Jim was clearly startled. 

Jim gave him a reassuring look. “It wasn‘t as bad as Bones makes it out to be, Spock.”

McCoy rolled his eyes, “Only because Spock tracked you down when you didn‘t show up for the meeting with Pike.”

Jim grinned wider. “See, it worked out.” 

“With your luck, we‘ll wind up being turned back into kids too,” said McCoy, frowning a the idea. 

Jim laughed at that. “That wouldn‘t be too bad actually, though it does make me feel sorry for everyone else on the ship if it happened. Just think, the three of us running around ship.”

McCoy laughed at that too. “Okay, okay, you got a point. So, all we have to do is stay way from any crystals in the shapes of spheres and we‘ll be fine.”

Jim got up and started the second movie going. “Now enough talk about tomorrow, lets enjoy the rest of movie night before we’ve got to work. I’ve been looking forward to the Princess Bride. It‘ll be the last movie we‘ll have time for tonight.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Is this film similar to the Wizard of Oz?” asked Spock, as he returned the lid to his tub of kettle popcorn and set it back onto the deck. His legs were so short that the top his sneakers didn’t even touch the tub. Spock then pulled out his PADD and left it on his lap as he waited for the movie to begin.

“Well, kind of,” answered Jim, munching on his popcorn.

“It sure as hell isn‘t based on reality if that‘s what you‘re wondering,” added McCoy. “At least, that what I‘ve heard.”

“Bones, you don‘t tell me you haven‘t see it before?” exclaimed Jim, staring at his friend in surprise. “How in the hell did you get to be your age without ever seeing the Princess Bride?” 

“Alright,” said McCoy, crossing his arms and scowling. “I won‘t tell you.”

Jim threw a popcorn kernel at his head but missed when McCoy ducked. McCoy narrowed his eyes and reached under his chair to pull out the tub that held the buttered popcorn. Jim’s eyes widened, he hadn’t expected Bones to have gotten himself popcorn too!

McCoy pulled off the lid and grabbed a kernel to toss back at Jim. 

Jim grinned and caught it in his mouth. He smugly chewed it as Bones swore at him. 

Spock watched their antics with a raised eyebrow. His faintly disapproving air made Jim and Bones grin at each other before they both tossed a kernel at Spock. 

The boy looked scandalized as popcorn landed in his hair.

Jim laughed hard, “Sorry Spock. We couldn’t resist.”

“Such actions are a waste of sustenance and are therefore illogical,” said Spock as primly picked the kernels out of his hair. Then he looked mildly uncertain as to what to do about them. He certainly wasn’t going to eat them.

McCoy convinced him to pass them over and he put them into one of his empty cup holders for later disposal. Jim thought that there had been nothing wrong with tossing them onto the deck. There were already enough kernels on the floor to give sanitation crews of the Maintenance Department reason to grumble. 

Spock had firmly disagreed.

The lights of the rec room slowly dimmed as the first scene opened up, showing a small boy sitting in room of a television screen, playing a very old video game, the sort that was heavily with pixels and clashing colors. 

“That is the Earth game of baseball,” said Spock, in observation. 

Both Jim and McCoy looked at him in surprise. 

“You know baseball?” asked Jim, with raised eyebrows. He hadn’t pegged Spock as the sort to care about human sports, little kid or not. 

“My mother has a fondness for the game,” answered Spock, making a note in his PADD. 

_Well, that explained it_. Jim blinked and asked, feeling rather curious to know the answer, “Huh, what do you think of it?”

“It is adequate for a physical sport,” said Spock. “Though, somewhat simplistic.”

Jim grinned, not at all surprised by Spock’s opinion of the game. Spock considered chess to be a worthy sport, not baseball.

On screen, the boy had jumped back into bed and his mother had walked into his bedroom. She told him that his grandfather was there. The boy wasn’t happy about the news. Then the grandfather walked it. The grandfather had pulled out a wrapped item, telling his young grandson that he had a gift for him. When the boy opened it, the grandfather explained how the book had been read to him, then he in turn had read it to his son and now, he was going to read it to his grandson.

Spock paused in the midst of his notes to lilt his head. “Is it standard among human families for there to be such traditions?”

“It depends on the families,” said McCoy, thoughtfully. “But yeah, my father would buy me ice cream whenever I got a sore throat, and I do the same with my girl.”

“My mom would tack mistletoe onto doorways on Valentine’s Day,” said Jim softly. “She told me that my dad did it with her.”

Spock nodded and went back to watching the screen while McCoy shot Jim a concerned look over his head. 

Jim just shook his head. He knew what was setting off McCoy’s worry. He usually never talked about his family, not even when he was drunk. He didn’t like sharing. When he did, the only one that heard about it was Bones. Jim couldn’t remember any instance where he’d talked about his own family with Spock.

 _Maybe little kid Spock was just easier to tell this stuff to,_ thought Jim.

On screen, the grandfather was reading from the book. The scene switched from the boy’s bedroom to rolling green fields. 

“A narrative within a narrative,” said Spock, his tone rather intrigued. “An interesting and unusual format to chose.”

Then on screen Buttercup was telling Westley she wanted her horse’s saddle polished until she could see her face in it. The farm boy responded with the famous line of ‘as you wish’. The grandfather’s voice narrated that this was the only way that Westley ever responded to her orders. 

The grandfather explained that Buttercup had realized that all this time when Westley was saying ‘as you wish’ he had really been saying, ‘I love you.’

“I do not understand,” said Spock, turning to Jim. “Would it not have been simpler for Westley to have informed the female about his regards without it being necessary for her to extrapolate the true meaning of his words?”

Jim nodded, “Yeah, but even with among humans, it‘s kind of hard to talk about our feelings. Especially, when it‘s about really strong feelings, like love.”

“It is? I thought humans had no difficulty expressing their emotions,” said Spock, his brows furrowing a bit in puzzlement.

“Expressing? Sometimes. But actually telling someone who could reject your feelings?” said Jim. “That‘s one of the hardest things for a human to do.”

“You got that right,” muttered McCoy, his own gaze on the screen where Buttercup was asking Westley to fetch her a pitcher that was within easy reach. The grandfather had just said that Buttercup had just realized that she returned Westley’s love.

Jim nearly cracked up laughing as Spock’s small nose scrunched in disgust as the fictional pair began kissing. The movie seemed to agree, because the grandson was now complaining about being tricked and how the book had no sports and was instead a kissing book.

“I find myself in agreement,” said Spock, his nose still wrinkled. “Such displays are neither warranted nor required.”

Jim wasn’t able to fight off a chuckle. “Sorry, Spock, but it is required for the story. And it’s a sort of thing that’s going to happen a lot in human movies.”

“I thought that this was a film suitable for children,” said Spock, his tone petulant. “I do not consider that to be accurate.”

McCoy was smiling as Spock’s complaining tone nearly matched the one of the movie’s fictional boy.

On screen, Buttercup was hugging Westley goodbye for he was leaving in order to make enough money so that the young couple could marry. She explained how she was worried that something would happen to him. Westley calmly pointed out that what they had was true love, something that didn’t happen every day. 

Spock paused in his note taking and stared at the screen in silent astonishment, then he turned to Jim. “I do not understand. Why would there be a difference between love and true love? What is the significance?”

Jim scratched his head, at loss to explain so McCoy cut in. 

“Well, kid, that‘s the thing about humans in love, no matter how deeply it started sometimes the love just dies out,” he explained softly, his tone bitter. “Humans fall out of love almost as easily as they fall into it. But true love?”

Spock watched McCoy with interest.

“True love is the ideal, the sort of love that never dies out. Never loses it‘s strength, no matter how long they know each other, they would still feel the same way about each other even on their deathbeds,” said McCoy, his voice now softer. 

“Most people don‘t find that kind of commitment,” added Jim, now being the one to give his friend a concerned look but Bones just ignored him. “And when they do, they‘ll hold on to it with everything they‘ve got.” 

On screen, the grandfather was just explained that Westley’s ship had been attacked by the Dread Pirate Roberts who never left captives alive. Then he said that when the news reached Buttercup, she shut herself up in her room for days on end without eating. Buttercup numbly declared that she would never love again.

“And when a they lose the person they love so deeply,” said Jim, softly. “It‘s the same as if they had died themselves.” He considered his own mother, who’d never lost that edge of grief about his father, even decades later. And Jim wondered if they would still have been in love if the timeline had remained unchanged, or would they too have fallen apart like so many other human couples. He rather hoped they’d stayed together. He knew that he could ask the other much older Spock from the alternative future but he was rather reluctant to hear the answer. 

On screen the scene shifted from Buttercup’s grief-numbed face to a square which was filled to the brim with people. A blast of trumpets signaled Prince Humperdinck’s appearance. He gave a speech, which culminated in his declaration of choosing a common woman for his bride. The trumpets sounded again and Buttercup appeared, wearing a glittering dress and a blank expression.

“Did she not declare that she would not love again?” asked Spock, puzzled. 

“Wait for it,” said Jim.

The grandfather explained that the prince had the right to chose whomever he wanted for a bride but Buttercup did not love Prince Humperdinck.

“That is consistent with the storyline,” said Spock with a nod. He added an observation to his PADD.

“I‘m just wondering why she agreed to it,” grumbled McCoy. “Look at her face! She doesn‘t want to be there. She should have told the prince to stuff it.”

That earned McCoy a puzzled look from Spock. “Stuff what?” asked the boy. 

McCoy stared back at him. 

Jim grinned at McCoy. “Yeah, Bones? Stuff what?” he asked innocently.

McCoy glared at him. “His mouth. Like telling him off.”

Spock’s small expression of puzzlement didn’t clear up but he shifted his gaze to Jim, clearly hoping that he would translate.

“What Bones is saying is that she should have declined and told him no,” said Jim with low laugh. He was amused that he had to explain not just the movie, but also Bones to the kid.

“I see,” said Spock. He wrote something down and shifted his gaze back to the screen where Buttercup was stopped in a forest during her daily horse ride by three men who asked her if there was village nearby.

She replied that there was no village for miles. A threatening music started up as the shortest of the men told her than no one would here her scream. Right before she could, the largest man of the trio reached up to her and with a squeeze to the back of her neck, rendered her unconscious. 

“I was not aware that humans had a similar move to render a being unconscious as Vulcans,” said Spock with eyes a little wide. 

“We don‘t,” said Jim, rubbing his own neck in silent sympathy to Buttercup’s situation. He knew how _that_ felt. 

“So it is just coincidence?” asked Spock, his tone shaded with interest. 

“Yeah,” answered Jim.

“Most humans can‘t even learn that Vulcan voodoo move,” said McCoy. “There‘s no way that they would knew it then.”

“This film was made in the same century as the Wizard of Oz,” agreed Jim. 

“The depth of human imagination is quite fascinating,” said Spock as he wrote in his PADD before turned back to the screen. 

McCoy and Jim exchanged grins over his head.

On screen, Buttercup had been carried onto a sea ship while the shortest man of the three was explaining his actions and how he intended to cast suspicion of her kidnapping on the rival country of Florin - the country that Humperdinck ruled - in order to spark off a war. 

The biggest, tallest man was clearly not happy about having to kill Buttercup as he said that he did not think it was right to kill an innocent girl. This sparked the small man into a tirade where he insulted the big man about daring to use the word ‘think’. 

Jim noticed that Spock’s mouth was turning down at the corners again.

“This is not pleasant teasing,” said Spock softly. 

“No,” agreed Jim. “It‘s definitely bullying.”

The slim third man, who’d been silent this entire time finally spoke up. He voiced his agreement with the large man, now named as Fezzik. This triggered off another tirade from the short man as he yelled that it wasn’t any of his concern and how they had no call to question him as when he’d found him he’d been too drunk to order brandy. Then he turned and berated Fezzik again.

“Not possible,” muttered McCoy. 

Jim grinned at him. “You only say that because you could still put in an order even in your sleep.”

McCoy just smirked. 

The slim man had was quietly cheering up Fezzik by giving him a sentence and letting the large man come up with a rhyming line in return. 

“Now,” said Jim in satisfaction and pointing at the screen where the two men were now smiling and clearly happier without Vizzini, “that’s friendship.”

Vizzini tried to shut them up, telling that not to rhyme ‘and I mean it!’, but Fezzik just kept rhyming by asking if anyone ‘wanted a peanut’ driving Vizzini to scream in frustration.

McCoy laughed.

The scene changed from day to night and revealed to ship to be on a large expanse of water. Vizzini questioned the slim and still unnamed man as to why he kept looking back. The slim man explained how he was checking to make sure that no one was following.

Jim grinned widely as Vizzini said his first inconceivable at such a situation occurring. Buttercup told Vizzini that he would hang for her kidnapping and he snapped back at her before he asked the unnamed man why he was still looking behind them. 

Jim had to bite down on his lower lip as Vizzini declared his second inconceivable. 

“Why would he consider such a situation to be inconceivable?” asked Spock, his eyebrows scrunching down. “While pursuit in order to rescue Buttercup is unlikely, there could be another factor involved as to why they are being followed.”

“The movie will explain,” said Jim.

“You can not inform me?” asked Spock, with a raised eyebrow. 

“Don‘t want to spoil it for you, Spock,” said Jim cheerfully.

On screen, Vizzini was staring incredulously at the ship that was following them. He tried to explain that it could just be a fisherman but he didn’t sound convinced. A splash sounded and Buttercup was shown trying to escape by swimming away. Vizzini ordered his men to get her, but the unnamed man said he did not swim. Fezzik said he only dog-paddled and made the paddling hand motions as evidence. 

McCoy snorted in amusement. 

Vizzini shouted to turn the ship and then a sound that could be described as a shrill growl sounded from the speakers. Vizzini asked Buttercup is she heard that, and how that was a noise made by the shrieking eels before they feasted on human flesh. Buttercup was shown looking desperately around as a large eel swam around and then right up to her.

Spock went tense and pale as the eel’s mouth opened to reveal sharp teeth as it shrieked at Buttercup. 

The tribble, which had been silent for a lot of the movie, trilled in alarm and wiggled in its cup holder. As if in response to Spock’s and the tribble’s reaction, the scene cut back to the grandfather who promptly said that Buttercup wasn’t eaten in a reassuring voice.

Spock slowly relaxed though he still looked pale. Jim gave his arm a pat. Spock shot him a quickly hidden look of gratitude. Then he in turn petted that unhappy tribble until it calmed down.

McCoy was grinning at them as the grandfather explained how he had to explain because of how worried his grandson looked just then.

“Why would the boy not want to admit to the depth of his reaction to the story?” asked Spock. He turned to Jim. “It is clear he is deliberately attempting to downplay his own emotions. Why would he seek to do so?”

“Well, he‘s a boy,” said Jim. 

Spock just blinked at him. “Why would his gender have any significance?”

“Because there‘s sort of cultural expectation especially during the century that the movie was produced that males had to act in a certain way,” answered Jim. 

On screen, the grandfather was reading again, getting to the point where the eel was charging Buttercup when Fezzik hit the eel on the head with a big fist and reached into the water to pull her out. 

“Yeah, they aren‘t suppose to be getting worried about fictional girls,” added McCoy. “Mind you, a lot of that nonsense isn‘t around anymore, but some of it still lingers.”

“Cultural expectation of gender-roles,” said Spock, turning back to the screen. “Fascinating.” He made more notes in his PADD.

Now, Vizzini was pointing out that whomever was following them was too late for they had reached their destination, the Cliffs of Insanity. 

“Such a name does not sound very auspicious,” said Spock. “Why would they head for such a location?”

“It‘s suppose to be funny,” said Jim. “Such crazy names are a homage to old style fantasy adventure stories.” 

“It is a cultural reference?” asked Spock. 

“Sort of,” said Jim. “But nothing specific. Sort of a general kind of reference.”

“I think that the movie produces are operating under an assumption that their audience - the sort of people who‘d watch this particular kind of movie - would get it,” added McCoy. 

Spock nodded. “I understand.”

On the screen, Fezzik was carrying Buttercup, Vizzini, and his unnamed friend up the cliffs by using a rope. Below them, also climbing the rope was a man dressed completely in black, wearing a mask and with a sword strapped to his side.

Vizzini called the situation inconceivable then began to berate Fezzik, telling him to move faster. Fezzik pointed out that he was carrying an additional weight of three people while the man in black was only carrying himself.

“That is a logical observation,” said Spock, his tone shaded with approval then it became disapproving. “I do not believe that Vizzini‘s logic to be sound. He is being most illogical in his demands.”

They reached to top of the cliffs and Vizzini immediately began cutting the thick rope with a knife. 

Spock breathed in sharply as he watched.

The music in the background grew urgent, higher pitched and rapid. The noise set off the tribble again, not setting down even when Spock petted it. He ended up having to pick the tribble and tuck it into the front large pocket of the black overalls before the critter switched over to purring. 

Abruptly the music cut off with a low sound as the rope was cut through and its sliced end slid over edge of the cliff. 

Spock’s eyes were wide again before he relaxed when the man in black was shown to be clinging to the cliff face. 

Vizzini popped in between Fezzik and his friend that had been admiring the man in black’s arms and exclaimed how his survival was inconceivable. The unnamed man then asked him why he kept using that word, as ‘I do not think it means what you think it means.’

Jim laughed. McCoy also chuckled. 

Spock stared at the screen then turned to them, looking from Jim to McCoy and back to Jim. 

“The entire time, it was a deliberate build up to a humorous situation?” Spock asked, clearly surprised by the idea. 

“Yup,” said Jim, grinning. “That‘s what I didn‘t want to tell you too early. It would ruin the joke.”

“Not a bad joke,” added McCoy. “So, that‘s where that line comes from. I never realized.”

Spock turned to him, “The line? Please, explain what you mean.”

“The line: I don‘t think it means you think it means,” explained McCoy. “It‘s quoted a lot. Usually by people to other people who are using words wrong. Hell, even I‘ve used it.”

“You did not know the origin, yet you still used the quote?” asked Spock, his eyebrows rising. 

“It‘s culturally significant, Spock,” said Jim. “It‘s the same way that someone can use the quote, ‘we’re not in Kansas anymore’ whenever they end up in an unexpected situation without ever seeing the movie. It‘s part of human culture.”

“And the usage of such quotes are recognizable?” asked Spock. 

“On average,” said Jim. “Not always of course. Not everyone knows the quotes and some are like Bones. They haven‘t seen the movie that is being referenced. But it‘s a pretty good chance that if one isn‘t recognized, another would be. These movies are still pretty popular.”

On the screen, the unnamed man was trying to convince the man in black to let him help get him up the cliff faster. But since he’d just told him that he intended to kill him once he reached the top the man in black refused. 

Spock’s note taking grew more rapid as the man came back asking the man in black if he’s accept his word as a Spaniard. He was rebuffed. Then the tone of the unnamed man became serious as he swore an oath on his father’s soul. 

“Why would the man in black believe him when he did not believe his oath as a Spaniard?” asked Spock, as the man in black climbed the rope to the top. 

“Because he swore on his father‘s soul,” said Jim. 

Spock’s expression was blank with incomprehension. 

“He‘s father was someone that he loved,” added McCoy, quietly. “He wouldn‘t say it if he didn‘t mean it.”

“And if he broke his promise it would be as if he was hurting his own father,” added Jim. 

On screen, the man with the last name of Montoya asked the man in black if he had six fingers on his right hand. Then the explanation as to why he’d asked quickly followed. 

Spock tilted his head in interest as he learned of the death of the man’s father, and how his scars had been given to him by the six-fingered man. 

Jim mouthed his lines as the unnamed Spaniard finally named himself with the lines of ‘Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.’

Spock had seen him and now stared at Jim. “Another quote that is culturally significant?”

“Yeah,” said Jim. Not bothering to try to explain to the kid that it also had been personally significant to him when he’d been very young. He’s used to day dream about finding the person who’d been responsible for the attack on the Kelvin and saying ‘Hello, my name is James Tiberius Kirk. You killed my father. Prepare to die’, for quite a few years.

He wasn’t going to explain that to Spock. It would just lead to Nero.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he wasn’t brought out of them until the clashing sounds of metal swords coupled with high tension music sounded from the speakers. 

On screen, Inigo had just called the man in black a better than himself swordsman before explaining that he was smiling because he wasn’t left handed. He switched the sword to his right hand and made the man in black backpedal.

“Is the sword fighting accurate in it‘s portrayal?” asked Spock, as the man in black explained that he was also not left handed.

“I have no idea,” said Jim as he leaned forward in excitement of the fight. 

“Doubt it,” said McCoy, chewing on some of his buttered popcorn. “This sort of flashy sword swinging is done mostly for show. Stage sword fighting, I think it‘s called.”

“We could ask Sulu,” said Jim, thoughtfully. “He‘s a fencer. He would know if it‘s at all realistic.”

Spock nodded in acceptance.

Inigo has just asked the man in black for his name but he was refused. Their fight went up a level in intensity, until it culminated in the man in black defeating him. 

Spock went tense again as Inigo expected to be killed until the man in black explained that he would sooner destroy a stained glass window. 

McCoy winced at the solid thunk which sounded from the speakers as Inigo was firmly hit on the head to knock him out.

“Why would he consider Inigo to be an artist?” asked Spock. “Is it purely from his combat skills?”

“Yeah,” said Jim. “He‘s pretty much agreeing that such level of skill shouldn‘t be destroy since it‘s a pretty rare talent.”

“Not that he would have cared if Inigo was a scumbag,” added McCoy. 

Jim nodded in agreement. “That‘s true. Inigo also proved that he was a good guy when he let him have the chance to rest on top of the hills before beginning the fight. He didn‘t have to do that. He did the man in black a favor.”

“So, the favor was reciprocated,” observed Spock. He noted this in his PADD. “Do all human have such structured rules of behavior?”

McCoy and Jim exchanged startled looks. 

“I wouldn‘t say structured rules,” said McCoy. “That‘s implying that they‘re written down somewhere and that‘s not true at all. It sure would have made life easier it was true.”

Jim laughed, “Not really.”

“That‘s because you would have broken every rule, and then set fire to the rule book,” grumbled McCoy. “Don‘t tell me you wouldn‘t. I saw what you did with that paper copy you replicated of all Starfleet regulations.”

Jim gave him an innocent look. 

Too curious to resist, Spock asked McCoy. “What did Jim do to it?”

McCoy grinned. “He rewrote a good part of them, took it apart and then posted all the pages all over the Academy campus.” He gave Jim a look. “I don‘t think they ever figured out it was you.”

Jim tried not to turn red at the wide-eyed look that Spock was giving him. 

“I only reworded the ones that didn‘t make sense,” Jim told him. _Damn, Spock’s going to remember that when he’s all grown up again. He’s never going to let me forget it._

McCoy smirked at him. Jim tossed more popcorn at him. 

Spock pointedly ignored them both, as a popcorn battle broke out over his head and he set his eyes back onto the screen where the man in black was fighting Fezzik.

Jim tried to declare a cease-fire when he noticed that he had a disadvantage in his ammunition. His plain popcorn was easily getting brushed away while Bones’ buttered ammunition was leaving grease all over his hair and clothes. 

_I love butter, just not on me,_ Jim thought with a grimace.

McCoy just tossed more popcorn at him until he surrendered. Jim sulked into his tub as McCoy smugly ate his own popcorn.

On screen, the man in black had managed to defeat Fezzik by holding onto his neck until he passed out. 

Then Jim noticed that Spock was eyeing Jim out of the corner of his eyes and his mouth was twitching up. 

Jim grinned in delight. It was always so much fun to see Spock trying to fight off a smile.

The movie was now showing Prince Humperdinck as he went over the area where Inigo and the man in black had held their fight, reading the fight right but not the motivation behind it. The scene switched back to the man in black as he approached Vizzini who was sitting down and holding knife to a blind-folded Buttercup.

Spock’s eyebrow went up as Vizzini declared the great thinkers of humanity like Aristotle and Socrates to be nothing but morons when compared to himself. 

“I do not believe that to be accurate,” said Spock, dryly. He clearly remembered Vizzini’s misuse of the word inconceivable. 

His tone made Jim crack up with laughter as McCoy snorted in amusement. 

The man in black challenged Vizzini to a battle of wits, which he agreed if it was to the death. 

“Why would he add such a codicil?” asked Spock. “To the death is needlessly excessive.”

“Because he‘s a moron,” said McCoy. “He thinks there‘s no chance he‘s going to lose.”

Jim nodded his agreement.

“Such hubris is most unbecoming,” said Spock, with a disdainful tone in his voice. 

“Which is kind of the point,” explained Jim, amused at the muted glare that Spock was directing at the screen. “The audience isn‘t suppose to like him at all. Even without knowing the motivations of the man in black, we‘re suppose to be cheering him on to take down Vizzini.”

A look of understanding swept across Spock’s face. “Fascinating. I had not considered such a motivation.” He promptly wrote this in his PADD. Then his attention back to the screen where the man in black had just set both goblets full of wine back after adding iocane poison.

The man in black explained that the battle of wits involved Vizzini finding out the location of the poison, and once he pointed it out they would then drink.

Spock’s small scrunched nose up in barely concealed disgust as Vizzini reasoned out as to which goblet to chose. 

“He is not only illogical but also circular and convoluted in his thinking,” complained Spock, his tone displeased. “The test was the location of the poison which yields only four outcomes. In either goblet such as the one closest to Vizzini or the furthest from him, in both goblets or in neither.”

Jim shot him an impressed look. He’d certainly hadn’t thought that out the first time he’d seen the movie. 

_Even as a kid, Spock’s good,_ thought Jim, feeling rather proud of him. 

McCoy shot Spock an interested look. “You don‘t think that trying to find out what kind of man the man in black is, matters? At all?”

“Such data is only partially necessary to make an accurate assessment,” said Spock, frowning at the screen where Vizzini’s had distracted the man in black to look away. “Even then the information upon which he is relying to predict the location of the poison is incomplete. He can not know the true personality of the man, when he doesn‘t even know his name. Therefore his ability to accurately chose the location of the poison by such a method is inherently flawed.”

As if to prove his point, the man in black told Vizzini that he had guessed wrong. Vizzini’s raucous laughter made Spock wince until Vizzini abruptly stopped laughing and fell over and out of the view of the screen. 

Jim expected Spock to react to the death but he only continued to type on his PADD as the man in black explained to Buttercup that both of the goblets had been poisoned but he’d built up an immunity to it. 

“Ha!” said McCoy. “That‘s clever. Here, I was thinking that he‘d be carrying around the antidote since he also has the poison but building up an immunity is better.”

“How so, Doctor McCoy?” asked Spock, turning to him.

“Well, because with an antidote there’s always the risk that he won’t get to it in time, or may he wouldn’t have it on him when it matters,” said McCoy. “Look how quickly it affected Vizzini, at least with a resistance he‘ll always carry that around.”

“And it‘s safer in case someone else uses the poison against him,” added Jim. “He did say it was pretty much undetectable.”

“A logical solution if he is facing such danger,” agreed Spock. “Vizzini failed to take such a possibility into consideration.”

“His own pride blinded him,” said Jim, with a nod. 

On screen, the man in black was sneering at Buttercup, mocking the value of the word of a woman. 

“I‘m glad no women are in the room right now,” muttered McCoy.

Jim laughed. “He‘s got his reason for his distrust. Wait for it.”

Buttercup told the man in black that Prince Humperdinck was incredibly skilled at hunting and would find them. She then denied that the prince was her dearest love when the man in black called him that. The man accused her of not being incapable of love and she retorted in anger that she’d loved more deeply than a killer like him could dream of.

Spock’s stiffened in his seat as the man in black raised his hand to hit Buttercup, and nearly slumped in relief as the man stopped himself. 

“He is taking her words rather personally,” said Spock, his voice shaken the implication of such violence against an unarmed woman. “If he was truly so impersonal to her then he would not have reacted so emotionally.”

“Wait for it,” said Jim, leaning forward in his seat. 

McCoy rolled his eyes but also watched the movie with interest. 

Prince Humperdinck has just found Vizzini’s body and was sniffing a tube. He declared it to be iocane powder. 

Spock blinked. “How could he be certain?”

“I think it‘s suppose to be a joke,” said Jim. “Considering how much of a fuss they made about the poison in the goblet scene, that it‘s undetectable and then he figures it out in seconds.”

“Not a very good joke,” said McCoy, dryly. “Well, you win some, you lose some.”

Spock looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “What does that phrase signify?” 

“He means that the jokes aren‘t always going to be funny or appeal to everyone,” explained Jim. “Human vary with what they find to be funny.”

“I had not considered that human humor had such level of complexity,” admitted Spock. 

“I’d hardly call slap-stick, complex,” said McCoy with a chuckle. 

Now, Buttercup was naming the man in black as the Dread Pirate Roberts and the man acknowledged the name with a bow. Buttercup’s declaration of wishing him to be cut into a thousand pieces made Spock pause in his writing. 

“It this further hyperbole?” he asked, with mild uncertainty in his tone. 

“No, I think she pretty much means it,” said Jim. He was amused when his answer made Spock blink rapidly.

Buttercup’s vitriol was explained as she accused the Dread Pirate Roberts of killing her love. Of killing the poor farm boy that she loved. The pirate mocked her that he couldn’t make exceptions when it came to killing captives. When he finally admitted that he did recall a farm boy that had spoken of her beauty and faithfulness, he sparked her anger to even greater levels by telling her that she should be glad that he killed him before the farm boy learned of her true nature. 

Buttercups shouted declaration that she had died that day before she then pushed the pirate down the steep hillside made Spock stare. 

Then the pirate called out ‘as you wish’ as he rolled down the hill.

Spock’s gasp was nearly inaudible over the sound of the movie, but Jim had been paying especially close attention. 

“He was not dead,” said Spock, sounding stunned. His brows scrunched up as he thought furiously. “Oh, at no point in the narrative is it ever specifically said that Westley had been killed. At most they said that the Dread Pirate Roberts didn‘t leave prisoners alive but that is not the same as being informed-”

McCoy interrupted Spock’s thoughts with a laugh as Buttercup threw herself down the hill after Westley. 

Spock stared again. “Such actions were not necessary.”

Jim’s mouth twitched at the stunned tone in Spock’s voice. 

“It would have been more prudent to find a safer path down,” continued Spock, his tone more disapproving than usual.

“Sorry, Spock,” said Jim, unable to hold in his laughter between Spock’s complaint and the long sequence interposed with ‘ow’s from Buttercup and Westley as they rolled down the hill. “More human humor.”

Spock raised an eyebrow, as if the question the sanity of a species that found two people rolling down hill to be a humorous situation. 

“Spock’s right. Damn fools are lucky they didn‘t break their necks,” said McCoy, with cross of his arms. 

Jim stared at McCoy. “You agree with Spock? Oh, I have got to mark down this day. I don‘t suppose you could repeat that into a computer? For evidence when people don‘t believe me?”

McCoy glared at Jim, then said flatly, “No.”

Westley was now explain to Buttercup how even death could not stop true love and how it could only be delayed for a while. 

“That is illogical,” said Spock.

“It‘s just another example of how much true love is valued,” explained Jim. “That it can be stronger than death is a very appealing thought.”

Spock gave him a baffled look and then his nose scrunched up as Buttercup and Westley kissed each other for the first time in five years.

“Come on, Spock. Kissing isn‘t that bad,” teased Jim. “Don‘t you know anyone that you want to kiss?”

The wide-eyed startled look that Spock threw him made Jim sit up in his chair, but the dark flush of green that rose in the boy’s cheeks made Jim get over his surprise and nearly crow with delight. 

_There is someone!_ , thought Jim in triumph. And he wondered what it would take to get Spock to confess a name. 

McCoy was also looking at the small Vulcan boy with a mix of curiosity and fascination.

Spock pointedly refused to meet their gazes and keep his eyes firmly on the movie.


	12. Chapter 12

“Come on, Spock,” continued Jim, leaning closer to the boy. “Don‘t leave us in suspense like that. Who do you want to kiss?”

“A kiss, as you consider it, is a human preference,” said Spock, still refusing to look at the Jim. The current scene of the movie was the grandson complaining about more kissing to his grandfather. “Vulcans do not touch mouths.”

“So, who do you want to Vulcan kiss?” asked Jim, eagerly. He was very amused at how his question made the color deepen in the boy’s cheeks, until the green flush went right up to the tips of his little pointed ears.

“Knock if off, Jim,” said McCoy, after a moment of watching Spock practically squirm in his seat from Jim’s teasing. “The kid‘ll tell you when he damn well feels like telling you.”

Jim gave Bones a surprised look. “Don‘t try to tell me you aren‘t curious, because I won‘t believe you.”

“Of course, I‘m curious. Who wouldn’t be?” snorted McCoy. “But you can‘t harass an answer out of someone like that. It just ain‘t done.”

Spock shot a McCoy a rather grateful look that made him smile at the kid before shifting his glare back to Jim. 

Jim leaned back in his seat and sighed. “Okay, okay.” Spock looked at him from the corners of his eyes. Jim grinned at him. “But know that I now I‘m going to be wondering.”

Spock jerked his eyes back to the screen where scene had gone back to Buttercup and Westley. He told Buttercup that it was nonsense that they wouldn’t survive the fire swamp just because no one ever had before. 

McCoy burst out laughing. “Oh god, now I understand why you like this film so much, Jim. That‘s something you would say.”

Jim‘s grin widened. “Only, if we end up going into a fire swamp.”

McCoy groaned and put a hand over his eyes, “Don‘t say that, with your luck the next planet we end up on will be one giant deathtrap.”

“Now, who‘s tempting fate,” said Jim with a laugh. 

McCoy grumbled, and on screen Buttercup barely escaped being charred by a blast of flame by Westley, who moved her out of the way. 

“The fire swamps must have vast amounts of methane buildup in order produce such bursts of fire,” said Spock, fascinated by the idea. “Are there any swamps on Earth which have such geographical features?”

Jim blinked. He said slowly, trying to remember if Earth had something similar in any of it‘s vastly different ecological environments, “I don‘t think so.”

“It‘s probably just suppose to be an exaggeration of a will-o‘-the-wisp,” said McCoy. “They‘re lights that show up in swamps, but they‘re nowhere near as extreme as those fires.”

“What is the cause of such phenomenon?” asked Spock, turning to look at McCoy. 

“I don‘t know,” said McCoy, honestly.

“It‘s probably in the library databanks if you want to look it up,” said Jim, rather curious about it himself. Iowa wasn‘t land with a lot of swamps. 

Spock nodded and made of a note of it in his PADD. 

Now, Westley was explaining to Buttercup how he was the Dread Pirate Roberts. Buttercup questioned how this was possible as he had only left her five years ago and the pirate had been around for twenty years. 

Spock stared with interest as he explained that it was the name that was important. “It this a true aspect of human behavior?”

“Yeah, it is,” said McCoy, also staring at the screen in surprise. “You don‘t normally hear about it in movies though.”

“Most humans do judge others based on what they hear about them,” said Jim. “It‘s not one our better habits, but it does happen.” He should know. It happened to him all the time ever since the first time he was arrested as a kid. He’d sometimes reveled in his own reputation and the benefits it had brought him, but just as often it had been a curse that bit him in the ass.

Though, these days it just got him a lot of free drinks at bars from admiring people who were grateful he’d saved the Earth.

“Among humans, rumor can help or hurt you, depending on the nature of it,” Jim added. “In Westley‘s case it helped him because no one dared to challenge him, but if it had been another sort of rumor? Then it probably would have gotten him killed.”

Spock raised a small slanted eyebrow at Jim.

“Well, if it had gotten out that he _wasn‘t_ the Dread Pirate Roberts, or if someone had thought of how young he was compared to how old the pirate was suppose to be,” explained Jim, “then his entire plan would have fallen a-”

Jim was cut off by Buttercup’s scream as she vanished abruptly into patch of sand. 

They all jerked their attention back to the screen where Westley desperately looked around, then cut a vine with his sword before he dove head first into the quicksand and disappeared from sight.

“What is that creature?” asked Spock, as a large rodent, easily the size of a man came up to the edge of the quicksand. 

“Ah hell, that looks like a giant rat,” said McCoy, with a grimace.

Jim smirked. “Wait for it.” The man sized rat walked out of view and a moment later Westley and Buttercup burst out of the sand, gasping for air and coughing.

“On Vulcan, such danger is not so easily defeated,” said Spock, pausing in his notes. 

McCoy frowned. “Vulcan had - has quicksand? I thought you needed water for that.”

Jim tensed but Spock was too interested in the screen to have caught Bones’ slip of the tongue. He shot his friend a reproachful scowl. 

Bones grimaced in apology over Spock’s oblivious head. The kid watched Buttercup and Westley reassure each other of their survival by a tight and heartfelt hug. Buttercup sobbed her despair of surviving the swamp, while a pair of rodents glowered at them from the trees which only Westley noticed.

“The geological phenomenon known as quicksand can also be formed in a dry environment,” answered Spock, absently. Most of his attention still caught by the couple in the movie. “Wind blowing through sand can loosen the granular particles and reduce density without altering the appearance of the area until a person or animal steps upon it and falls through the loosened space. This would collapse the remaining particles atop of them.”

McCoy made a face. “Ugh, that‘s a terrible way to die.”

On the screen, Westley was reassuring Buttercup as he led her away from the quicksand, explaining that they had already won because now they knew what to look for in the dangers of the fire swamp. That the sound before the blasts of fire would warn them, and now they also knew what the lightning sand - their name for the quicksand - looked like. Buttercup asked him about the ROUSes to which Westley replied that he didn’t think that Rodents of Unusual Size actually existed. 

Spock looked confused at finally learning the name of the rat creature but jumped in his seat as an ROUS attacked Westley before he could ask his question.

He stared at the screen as Westley wrestled the ROUS along the ground. The growling noises of the ROUS set off the tribble making it shake and trill in his front pocket until he patted his chest to calm it down.

“Rodents of unusual size?” laughed McCoy. “Oh, that‘s great! Ha!”

“Why does she not render assistance?” asked Spock. He was watching Buttercup stand off to the side as Westley fought the ROUS. Spock stiffened as Westley screamed as the rodent bit his arm. “He is in danger.”

“You know, I never got that,” said Jim, also frowning at the screen where the fight was still ongoing. “I think it could be a reflection of the expectation of women‘s roles during this century. Women were just getting their rights actually respected as social equals to males.”

Spock frowned, “It just seems rather inconsistent compared to her spoken devotion to Westley that now she does not seek to offer him any sort of assistance.”

“It could be shock,” added McCoy, his tone not particularly convinced. On screen, Buttercup screamed for Westley as the ROUS went after her. She finally picked up a tree branch, but didn’t actually fight away the rodent.

“Unlikely, Doctor, as the fight‘s duration is more than a sufficient amount of time for her to react,” said Spock, his brows scrunching down lower as Buttercup stood by the side as the ROUS bit Westley again. Westley yelled in pain. Spock flinched and he put his hands over his ears, the PADD resting on his lap.

On screen, Westley had finally defeated the unusually sized rodent by rolling into the path of an incoming flame spurt. It injured the animal enough that Westley was able to grab his fallen sword and stab it to death.

Spock went pale as the animal screamed from the three stabs to took to kill it. The tribble in his pocket purred loudly, as if it knew it was its turn to be the one to be reassuring. Jim also patted his shoulder. Under his touch, Spock slowly relaxed and dropped his hands from his ears. 

“Hey, I forgot how much screaming goes on in this movie,” said Jim. “Do you want me to lower the sound?”

“It is not currently necessary,” said Spock, picking up the PADD. “Only if a similar situation is likely to occur.”

Jim frowned. He knew that a lot more screaming was going to come up. 

“Wait a moment, I‘m going to adjust the computer,” said Jim as he put his popcorn tub on the deck. He got up and went to the computer terminal, quickly bringing up the audio program. Jim changed the setting so that when the noise rose up the computer would automatically drop the volume down so that the decibel remained within a certain range. 

_At least now, Spock’s sensitive ears won’t take a beating,_ Jim thought in satisfaction.

McCoy’s laugh made him look to the screen where Westley had his sword up with Buttercup behind him as he talked to Prince Humperdinck.

Jim had just sat back in his chair as Westley screamed ‘death first!’ to Humperdinck’s demands to surrender. He flickered his gaze over to Spock who was staring up in muted interest and at Bones who had a more obvious expression of fascination on his face. 

The symmetry amused Jim and he had to stifle a chuckle. 

On screen both Humperdinck and Westley looked at Buttercup in shock as she agreed to the prince’s demand but only is he let Westley go unharmed.

Spock nodded, “Her actions are most logical. There are too many people against them. Westley would not be able to successfully defeat them all even had he not sustained injury in the fire swamp.”

“Hmm,” said McCoy, giving Humperdinck a suspicious look. “Somehow I don‘t think that‘s how it will turn out.”

As if to give strength to McCoy’s statement, Humperdinck whispered to Count Rugen to take Westley back to Florin and have him thrown in the Pit of Despair. 

“He broke his oath!” exclaimed Spock, his voice high. He turned to Jim, “He deliberately told her that he would as she requested but that was a false promise.”

“Yeah,” said Jim. “He‘s not a good guy.”

“Rotten liar,” muttered McCoy. “I knew there was something off about the way he was acting.”

On screen, Westley had noticed that Rugen had six fingers on his right hand and told him that someone was looking for him before Rugen knocked him out with a loud thunk to the top of his head. The entire screen went black. 

“That isn’t the best way to knock someone out,” complained McCoy. 

Jim laughed. “It‘s not going to be accurate, Bones. Give it up.”

The scene opened up to a rather pale human bringing a tray of food down a flight of dark stairs. Westley was revealed on his back and tied to a wooden table with manacles. The albino spoke in a high-pitched voice before clearing his throat and speaking in a deeper one.

Spock paused and turned to Jim. “Is this intended to be a humorous situation?” 

Jim was frowning at the screen, also puzzled. “You know, I have no idea. Some of these references are going to be too old for us to get.”

Spock turned to McCoy, who shrugged. “Sorry, kid. I don‘t know either. Jim‘s right. The movie is a couple of centuries old.”

“And a lot of stuff from that time doesn‘t really work in our time,” added Jim. “It could just be that the joke is too old.”

“So, a lot of human humor has to be relevant in some way?” asked Spock, as he waited to note down their answers. 

“Not everything, but yeah, you have to _get_ a joke in order for it to be funny,” said Jim. “If it’s not understandable then it‘s not funny.”

On screen, Westley had figured out that he was going to be tortured but said that he could withstand it. The albino disagreed, telling him that no one withstood the Machine.

Spock swallowed hard. 

McCoy put his a hand over his eyes. “Now, I have to ask? Jim, are you sure that this is age appropriate?”

Jim rolled his eyes. “Yes, I‘ve saw it as a kid. Even when I ran the computer search, it came up on the list.”

McCoy dropped his hand to give him a skeptical look. 

“Oh, just keep watching the movie,” said Jim, in affectionate exasperation. 

Buttercup was shown walking listlessly through the halls of the castle. Humperdinck told Rugen that she was acting this way because of his own father’s failing health. The grandfather’s voice came back as the narrator saying that that very night Humperdinck and Buttercup were married due to the king‘s death.

The grandson interrupted the grandfather telling him that he’d read that wrong. 

“I must agree,” said Spock, his brow furrowing until a slim line crossed his brow. “The tone of the narration has changed too abruptly. That Buttercup would marry Humperdinck is a most unpleasant conclusion.”

Jim stifled a grin. McCoy caught it and raised an eyebrow at him.

On screen the grandson was loudly protesting that Westley had done too much for Buttercup to not end up getting married to her. That it would not be fair. 

The grandfather pointed out that life wasn’t fair. That nowhere was it written that life had to be fair.

“Which is too damn bad,” muttered McCoy. 

This was too much for the grandson to handle and he yelled at his grandfather to get the story right. The grandfather asked him if he wanted to him continue reading. The grandson subsided and said that he did.

Jim had to bite his lower lip when Spock nodded along with the grandson’s protest. Jim rather thought the kid hadn’t realized that he was doing it. 

Humperdinck was declaring Buttercup as the queen and was interrupted by an old woman’s booing. When Buttercup questioned her reaction, the old woman told her that it was because she had true love and she threw it away like it was trash. Now Buttercup was nothing more than garbage herself. 

Then Buttercup abruptly woke up.

“Is there a social expectation among humans to marry one’s true love above all other considerations?” asked Spock. 

“I don‘t know about social expectation,” said Jim. “But it is encouraged, depending of course, on the culture in question.”

McCoy nodded, “And family too. People do get married for a lot of reasons that have nothing to do with love.”

Now, Buttercup was telling Humperdinck that she could not marry anyone but Westley. And that if he told her that she would have to marry him in ten days then she would be dead by morning. Humperdinck agreed to release her. 

“That was too easy,” said McCoy.

As if to prove his observation, Humperdinck asked Buttercup if she was even certain that Westley was still waiting for her. Then he came up with the idea of her writing four letters for him to send on four of his fastest ships to find the vessel of the Dread Pirate Roberts. She agreed to this plan. 

Spock’s mouth was turning down at the corners again. “I do not agree with her decision. If she was truly confident of the regard that Westley has for her than she should have sought him out. Instead of waiting for him to respond.”

Jim nodded. “I agree with you, Spock. I never did think that it made sense for her to stick around. But if she had left then the story would have been cut awfully short.”

“So, the most logical solution is ignored in favor of entertainment?” asked Spock.

“Yeah, in this case,” agreed Jim.

“I see,” said Spock. “Has there ever been a movie produced that did not have this sort of weakness in the narrative?”

Jim and McCoy exchanged look. 

“See, that‘s hard to say for certain,” said Jim slowly, “because a lot of stories may have plot holes that are only obvious to certain people while other viewers don‘t see any weakness.”

“He‘s got a point,” said McCoy. “If we‘re going by Buttercup‘s characterization then her decision to stay with Humperdinck makes sense. She thinks that Westley will come to her, just like she said. I don‘t think she‘s ever thought of going to him.”

Spock nodded. “So, the personality of the characters also needs to be taken into account throughout the progression of the narrative.”

“That‘s right,” said Jim. McCoy nodded. 

“That is an acceptable explanation,” said Spock, carefully noting this on his PADD. 

On screen, Humperdinck was telling Rugen how he’d thought his plan to have Buttercup kidnapped and killed by Vizzini had been clever but how strangling her on their wedding night would have more of an impact to incite war.

Jim looked to Spock and saw that the boy had narrowed his eyes at the screen. The corners of his mouth were turned down and he was clutching the PADD tightly.

“This man is most unsuitable to be the ruler of Florin and to be Buttercup‘s fiancé,” Spock said fiercely. 

“You can say that again,” scowled McCoy, also glaring at the prince and Rugen on the screen where Humperdinck excused himself from Rugen’s torture session. “Those two are too much alike.”

Spock’s expression went blank with surprise as Rugen expressed his concern over Humperdinck and how he should rest for his health. 

“Are they friends? I find it highly unlikely that two such personalities would be capable of such a relationship,” said Spock, his eyes widening. 

“They‘re just two birds of a feather,” said McCoy. 

Spock raised a small eyebrow at him. “What does that phrase signify?”

“The whole thing is ‘birds of a feather, flock together’,” explained Jim. “Which means that they are similar enough to get along with each other.”

“They probably see themselves in the other,” said McCoy. “And because that, they ended up joining forces.”

Spock considered this, before nodding in agreement. “This is a trait that is not solely shared by humans.”

Westley’s muffled groans made them turn back to the screen. Rugen was explaining to a shaking Westley that he had just sucked one year of his life from him by the power of suction of the Machine at level 1. Then Rugen asked Westley how he felt. All Westley could do was sob, to which Rugen responded with an ‘interesting’.

“Sadistic bastard!” growled McCoy. He was glaring at the screen and his hands were in fists.

“That is not how one conducts experiments,” agreed Spock, his tone also icy. “And no respectable scientist would use a sentient being as a subject of such experimentation.”

Jim kept from cracking up at their reactions by stuffing more popcorn in his mouth in order to keep in his laughter. He’s never would have guess that out of all the movies in existence that it would take _The Princess Bride_ for Spock and Bones to join up forces in mutual outrage. 

Usually when they teamed up with was because they were going up against him. Or trying to talk him out of whatever plan he came up with to save their asses. He’d have to remember to try to implement a regular movie night for them when Spock was back to normal. Jim really wished to see how grown Spock would react to other human films in the library database. Though, he rather suspected that young Spock’s reactions would still be the best.

Jim had missed the discussion between Rugen and his chief enforcer but his attention was brought out of his own thoughts and back to the film by Buttercup loudly reiterating her conviction that Westley would come for her. Humperdinck told her it was too soon to hear his response to her letter and she left. Humperdinck then ordered his chief enforcer to clear out the Thieves’ Forest. 

The scene shifted to the forest, and then to Inigo. 

Spock sat up straighter. “I have been curious about his status.”

His status was being drunk. Inigo refused to be moved because he was waiting for Vizzini. 

“He is inebriated,” said Spock. “But that was the condition in which Vizzini first found him. Why would he seek to return to it?”

“Because sometimes alcohol is the only way a man has to deal with life,” said McCoy, softly. He looked away from Spock’s inquiring face. 

Jim watched silently as Spock took in the empty beer bottles by McCoy and his closed expression. Then Spock turned to face Jim, puzzlement still in his eyes.

“Sometimes, we humans don‘t deal very well with our emotions,” explained Jim. “And drinking is a distraction. A way to not feel so bad.”

Spock just frowned deeper. “But is alcohol not a depressant to human physiology?

“I didn‘t say that it was a smart distraction,” admitted Jim, with a shrug.

The puzzlement remained on Spock’s face. 

“Don‘t worry about it, kiddo,” continued Jim. “Even grownup you didn‘t get it.”

Grownup Spock had made enough comments on Jim’s and Bones’ habit of drinking that Jim knew that there was no way that little Spock would even begin to wrap his adorable head around it. 

Spock nodded reluctantly, clearly not happy with the idea of there being something he didn’t understand.

On screen, Fezzik had shown up. The grandfather narrated how Fezzik helped nurse Inigo back to health as well as informing him that he’d found the six-fingered man. The grandfather mentioned how Inigo took the news rather well while on the screen, Inigo promptly fainted into a bowl of soup. 

Jim laughed at the deliberate incongruity of the grandfather’s explaining how Fezzik took great care in reviving Inigo, and then showing Fezzik roughly ducking Inigo’s head into a barrel of water.

McCoy also chuckled. 

Spock looked from each of them and made more notes in his PADD. 

“A deliberate contraction between spoken words and actions are also considered humorous?” asked Spock.

“Yeah, but it has to be done right,” said Jim with a wide smile. 

Spock tilted his head as he tried to figure out what he meant.

“It‘s a matter of timing,” explained Jim. “You should comic timing your list of topics to look up later.”

Spock nodded and did so at once, while on the screen Inigo realized that the best person to help him launch an attack against the castle to get to Count Rugen, was the man in black. Fezzik logically pointed out that he didn’t know where the man in black was, and Inigo told him not to bother him with trifles.

McCoy snickered. “I wonder where I‘ve heard that before… Jim.”

Jim gave him a wide-eyed look of innocence which made Bones snicker harder. Jim smiled at Spock when the boy gave him a puzzled look. 

Meanwhile, the scene had cut back to Humperdinck, where Buttercup had just figured out that he’d lied to her about sending his four fastest ships to deliver her letters to Westley. 

Spock paused in his note taking as Buttercup said that it did not matter because Westley would come for her anyway. 

Spock’s eyes widened as Buttercup began to insult Humperdinck calling him the weakest coward that had ever walked the earth. This enraged him so much he grabbed her by the arm, dragged her to her room and then headed down to the Pit of Despair. There Humperdinck told Westley that with their rare chance to be happy from having true love then Westley would also be the sort of man to suffer the most.

Spock inhaled sharply as Humperdinck cracked up the level of the Machine up to 50. 

His reached out and clutched Jim’s hand as Westley screamed, and screamed, and screamed until his pain rang over all of Florin. 

“I am grateful that you decided to lower the volume of the audio system,” said Spock, shakily. 

“Well, I knew what was coming up,” said Jim, giving Spock’s hand a gentle squeeze. 

“Jesus, Jim,” said McCoy, not sound happy at all. “You could’ve warned us.”

Jim reached over Spock and gave Bones a reassuring pat on the shoulder. McCoy glowered a Jim, but a glower that had less bite than usual. 

On the screen, Inigo was explain to Fezzik his logic in concluding that the sound of ultimate suffering had to come from the man in black.

“His logic is not sound,” said Spock, hints of exasperation coloring his voice. 

At this point, Jim didn’t bother explaining, though he tried to stifle his laugh at the nearly invisible pout that Spock was giving the screen.

When McCoy caught the pouting look he instantly cracked up. This made Jim lose it and laughed aloud as well. 

Spock primly ignored them both and kept his eyes on the screen where Inigo had his sword at the albino’s face and asked Fezzik to jog the albino’s memory. Fezzik responded by hitting the man right on top of his head.

McCoy threw his hands up into the air in exasperation while Jim grinned at him.

But the solemn music that began cut off any sarcastic commentary McCoy might have made. Inigo was shown pleading with the spirit of his father to show him how to find the man in black. With his eyes closed, Inigo was tugged along by the sword until the point hit a tree. When Inigo leaned against it he accidentally opened up the door leading down to the Pit of Despair. 

The next scene showed Fezzik listening to Westley’s chest, before telling Inigo that he was dead.

McCoy cursed in surprise and Spock’s eyes went wide. 

“Humperdinck killed Westley with the Machine,” said Spock, staring at the screen before turning to Jim. 

“Yeah,” said Jim, even though Spock hadn’t asked a question but had made a statement. “He killed him.”

“And Buttercup does not know it,” added Spock, sound rather grim about it.

On screen, the grandson was questioning the whole thing in his more human way. He demanded to know who ends up killing Humperdinck if Westley is really dead. The grandfather explains that no one does. This makes the grandson explode.

“It is usual for narratives to have the antagonist be killed towards the end?” asked Spock, distracted by his own opinion of Westley’s death by the grandson’s interesting reaction. 

“Yeah, pretty much,” said Jim.

“Even these days a lot of stories have the bad guy dying,” agreed McCoy. “I can‘t tell you how many fairytales I‘ve read to my daughter that had the monster or villain being killed by the hero.”

“And this one does not. So it deviates from this standard method of story telling,” said Spock, tilting his head. “Fascinating. Are there any other methods in which this film does not follow the usual pattern?”

“You’ll just have to see,” said Jim, with a smile. 

McCoy rolled his eyes. “You know, Jim. When we watch a movie that you don‘t know how it will end up, I‘m not telling a thing, no matter how much you ask.”

Jim just smirked at him.

The movie had shifted back to Fezzik and Inigo. Inigo knocked on a cottage door and asked the old man who answered if he was Miracle Max who used to work for the king. Miracle Max instantly scolded him from bringing up such a painful subject. He also told them to beat it or he’d call the brute squad. 

Fezzik said that he was on the brute squad. Miracle Max took in his large size and told him ‘he was the brute squad’.

Jim grinned and idly wondered how Security would react if he started calling them brute squads instead of security teams. Cupcake would probably not like it but Jim also had no doubt that he’d agree to the name change if his captain promised to stop calling him Cupcake. Which wasn’t going to happen.

 _I guess they’ll stay with the name security teams,_ Jim thought.

Miracle Max was asking them why they wanted someone that had been fired the king’s son as he could kill the person that he treated. Inigo reassured him that the patient was already dead. Miracle Max paused and agreed to let them in.

Jim turned to McCoy who he could feel glaring at him. 

“What?” he asked, genuinely baffled by his reaction.

“Is this why you keeping calling me Miracle McCoy every time I manage to keep you from dying?” demanded McCoy. 

“Aw, Bones, but you are a miracle worker,” protested Jim. 

McCoy crossed his arms and glowered. 

“Listen! You‘re missing the one of the best scene,” said Jim, pointing back to the screen. 

Inigo was now telling Miracle Max that they were in a rush. Miracle Max scolded him, saying that ‘you rush a miracle man, you get rotten miracles.’

McCoy chuckled, sounding rather surprised as he said, “Alright, that was a good line. I‘ll have to remember it.”

Jim grinned.

On screen, Miracle Max was explaining how Westley was only mostly dead. And mostly dead meant he was a little bit alive.

Spock stopped writing in his PADD and stared at the screen again. “That is illogical!”

Jim looked at him, while on screen Miracle Max and Inigo moved Westley around to fill his lungs full of air with a bellows. 

“If someone is dead, unless they are revived through medical intervention, the probability of them being revived after too long a period has passed is unlikely to ever occur,” said Spock. 

“I agree with the kid, Jim,” said McCoy. “Dead is dead. There’s no coming back from dead.”

“Especially not for a humanoid species,” added Spock, with a shake of his head. “For there to be an expectation that a deceased individual can be returned to life… it is unrealistic!”

Jim smirked at them both. “Come on guys, you don‘t like the idea of love being able to defeat death?”

“I doubt that an emotion, no matter how strongly felt,” said Spock, his voice serious, “can keep a being from becoming deceased.”

“Well… I‘m pretty certain that what the movie is trying to say isn‘t that death can be overcome by love so much as it’s a metaphor of the overriding theme,” said Jim, after a moment of watching Spock look very serious and adorable as he spoke about the subject.

“A theme?” asked Spock. “On what subject?”

“On love, that love can make a person do extraordinary things that they may have never thought themselves to be capable of doing,” explained Jim. He pointed at the screen where Miracle Max was trying to get out reviving Westley after hearing him say ‘true love’ and was yelled at by his wife.

“The whole movie is about the different kinds of love. Look at how Indigo’s love for his father drove him to learn fencing, how his friendship with Fezzik tied them together even after the death of Vizzini had torn apart the reason they‘d gotten to know each other in the first place, how Westley’s declaration of his love for Buttercup lead to the Dread Pirate Roberts into sparing his life,” explained Jim. “Even the grandfather showing up to read a story to his grandson. It‘s about love.”

“Okay, you‘ve got a point, Jim,” admitted McCoy. 

“Thanks, Bones,” said Jim, wryly.

Spock didn’t look convinced. 

Jim thought about it then asked hesitantly. “You‘re mother loves your father, doesn‘t she?”

“She has expressed such sentiment,” admitted Spock. 

McCoy was raising his eyebrow at Jim over the kid’s head. But Jim had to ignore it since Spock was looking at him. 

“Well, I‘d say that being the first human to marry a Vulcan and have a half-Vulcan child is a pretty extraordinary act,” said Jim. “Something she would only have done out of love.”

Spock’s expression went blank but in his eyes a light of comprehension was glowing. 

“I believe that I understand,” said Spock softly. There was mild thoughtful expression on his face. “It is not something I had previously considered about my mother, but such an act would be logical for a human when raised in culture to value such an emotion.”

“You got it,” agreed Jim, with a nod.

Spock was so wrapped up in his thoughts that Jim didn’t see him react to the next scene where Miracle Max and his wife had cooked up a miracle pill, with chocolate covering for easy swallowing. A pill that Max had only agreed to make because Humperdinck would suffer from having his bride taken away Westley.

“You could learn a thing or two from Miracle Max, Bones,” Jim teased. “If some of those pills you gave me came with a chocolate coating maybe you wouldn‘t have such a hard time getting me to take them.”

“In your dreams,” said McCoy. “I‘ve still have several hypos with your name on them. Keep it up and I‘ll go get them.”

“What? And miss the rest of the movie?”

“It‘ll be worth it,” glowered McCoy. He then snorted with amusement as Miracle Max and his wife waved Fezzik, Inigo and the still dead Westley off with a ‘have fun storming the castle’.

Jim kept his eyes on Spock, a little concerned that the boy hadn’t reacted to Bones’ laugh. He’d noticed that Spock had been careful to take special notes every time that Bones reacted or explained a scene. Also, it wasn’t like him not to react whenever Jim teased Bones until Bones snapped back. 

_I guess talking about love and his mother really threw him out of the movie note taking mood,_ Jim thought. _Well, I don’t blame him. If I had a sudden revelation about my own mother, it would take more than a few minutes for me to stop thinking about it. With Spock? I give it a few hours before he’s done properly thinking it to exhaustion._

His own attention on Spock meant that he wasn’t watching the next scene where Inigo and Fezzik forced the miracle pill down Westley’s dead throat.

When Spock looked up sharply when Westley began to talk, the concern Jim had for him died down.

“He had been restored to life?” asked Spock. “How was this accomplished?”

As if to answer his question, Fezzik said to Westley that he’d been mostly dead all day. Inigo explained that they had gotten a miracle pill from Miracle Max to bring him back.

Spock blinked, then gave Jim a look. 

“Honestly,” laughed Jim. “That‘s what happened so far.”

Spock’s mouth twitched and he turned to face the screen. 

Inigo was listing for Westley all that they had to face the sixty men who guarded the castle which were only Westley’s brains, his steel and Fezzik’s strength. Westley called it impossible, saying that if at least they had a wheelbarrow than it would be something. This triggered Inigo into asking Fezzik where they had left the wheelbarrow with the albino. Westley sarcastically asked why he hadn’t mentioned the wheelbarrow.

Jim chuckled over the trio antics.

Spock watched Jim with an expression of mild interest before adding more notes to his PADD. Jim was pleased that Spock was back into his scientist mode and taking down reactions of the humans.

“This Westley’s sure a sarcastic bastard when he‘s not talking with Buttercup,” noted McCoy. 

“Yeah,” agreed Jim, rather amused to hear that from Bones, who was the King of Sarcasm on the Enterprise. 

“It is a rather significant difference,” said Spock, looking at Jim. “Why would his personality change so drastically?”

McCoy and Jim gave each other a look then simultaneously answered, “True love!”

Spock raised his eyebrow at this response. “That is not an answer.”

“It is an explanation,” said McCoy, as Spock turned to him. “And it‘s the only thing that‘s gonna make sense.”

On screen, Buttercup was wearing her wedding gown and coolly telling Humperdinck that she would not marry him because her Westley would save her.

“She needs to get her ass away from Humperdinck, is what she needs to do,” grumbled McCoy. “She sure as hell can‘t expect Westley to do all the rescuing.”

“That would be logical,” agreed Spock. 

“And it would ruin the story,” added Jim. “This movie is suppose to be parodying fairytales. The princess doesn’t‘ rescue herself in those. She gets rescued.”

Spock didn’t look convinced. 

The wedding began, with the priest’s speech impediment making the words difficult to understand. A commotion at the gate made the wedding guest turn. The scene cut to show Fezzik wearing the black cloak he’d gotten from Miracle Max and saying that he was the Dread Pirate Roberts. This made the already frightened guards even more scared. 

“But it is clear that he is outnumbered,” said Spock, as the movie showed Inigo pushing Fezzik on the wheelbarrow. “Why would the guards react in such a way?”

“You know how we talked about the impact of rumor on humans?” asked Jim 

Spock nodded. 

“Well, this is it again. Everyone knows that the Dread Pirate Roberts doesn‘t leave survivors because they‘ve all heard those rumors. So when they face a man who’s been so dangerous for so long, and they know that he will kill them even if they surrender, they’d rather run,” explained Jim. 

“Fascinating,” said Spock, now watching as sixty men became a panicked mob seeking to escape the soul-stealing grasp of the Dread Pirate Roberts. “This is clearly a situation where emotional control would have been beneficial.”

McCoy chuckled, “That would have ruined the story, for certain.”

On screen, Humperdinck was telling the priest to move on the wedding ceremony. Not even letting him ask Buttercup if she would accept Humperdinck as her husband but to skip to declaring them man and wife. He did so. And left Buttercup devastated that Westley didn’t come for her.

“I do not believe that the wedding official completed the ceremony correctly,” observed Spock. 

“He didn‘t,” agreed McCoy. 

“Wait for it,” said Jim. 

Jim straightened up in his seat as Inigo finally came face to face with the man who had killed his father. Inigo killed the guards that Count Rugen had with him before raising his sword and saying the lines he’s been waiting twenty years to say, ‘Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.’

Jim whispered them with him. Out of the corner of his eye, Jim saw Spock’s head move to him sharply and resigned himself to getting grilled about it. Even if Spock didn’t ask now, he’d probably ask later. 

_Hell, I’ll wait until he asks me,_ thought Jim. He didn’t particularly want to talk about the Kelvin, but if Spock asked he’d answer. Just as long as the topic didn’t lead to Nero and Vulcan’s destruction.

McCoy snickered as Rugen turned and ran from Inigo. Inigo gave chase.

“Coward,” said McCoy, in satisfaction as Rugen ran through a door that he pulled shut behind him. 

Inigo tried to knock it down, and couldn‘t, so he called desperately for Fezzik to help him. Fezzik had to put down Westley, who’d he been carrying because Westley couldn’t move on his own, before he found Inigo still trying to knock down the door. Fezzik knocked it down with one punch. Inigo resumed his chase. 

The scene then cut to Buttercup, walking down in the arm of the king. She kissed him and told him that it was because he’d always been kind to her and she was now going into her room to kill herself.

Spock flinched. 

“She‘s giving up too easily,” said McCoy. “In her place, I‘d have scaled the wall and run off into the night by now.”

Jim laughed. “In her place, Bones, you‘d be so drunk you wouldn’t even realized you were getting married until someone - namely me - showed up to bust up the wedding.”

McCoy rolled his eyes at him.

The background music of the movie became energetic as the scene switched to Rugen running and Inigo following closely behind. It cut to Fezzik looking around for Westley right at the spot where he’d left him before going back to Rugen and Inigo. The music abruptly rose in pitch as Rugen stopped running to throw a knife into Inigo’s gut. Then Rugen mocked Inigo for his failure, watching him as Inigo collapsed to the floor.

“Aw, hell,” said McCoy. “I was cheering for him to win.”

Jim had to bite his lower lip to keep in what happened next.

The scene switched again, but to Buttercup this time. She pulled out a dagger and was set to plunge it into her chest when Westley interrupted her. She threw herself on him in delight, eagerly kissing him and asking in between smooches why he didn’t hold her. 

The scene cut again to Inigo, who pulled the knife from his abdomen and through sheer force of will made himself stand up. 

“Hell, yes,” said McCoy, as Inigo managed to hold off Rugen’s sword attack. 

Inigo began slowly whispering his famous catchphrase, each reiteration gave him more strength until he was shouting the words and beating Rugen back. Inigo defeated Rugen, and Inigo cut a line in his cheek in mimic of the scars he’d given him those twenty years ago. Inigo asked him to offer him money, power. Rugen did. Inigo told him to promise him for anything he asked for. Rugen said he’d give him anything he wanted. 

Inigo ran him through, telling him ‘I want my father back, you son of a bitch.’

Jim was grinning at this. When he turned to Spock he was expecting the boy to disapprove of the violence but Spock didn’t. In fact, Spock looked calm though there was a satisfied glitter in his eyes. Jim’s grin widened.

“And that‘s how you kill a bad guy,” said McCoy in satisfaction. Then he shot Spock a bemused look. “As least in fictional stories.”

“I am fully aware that the narrative is fictional, Doctor McCoy,” said Spock.

On screen, the scene had shifted to Westley explaining to Buttercup how she had never actually married Humperdinck because she had never said ‘I do’ to finalize it. Humperdinck who’d silently entered the room said that it as a mere technicality and challenged Westley to a fight to the death. 

Westley promptly said, no it would be a ‘fight to the pain.’ Then he explained what he meant. That he would end up cutting up Humperdinck, until all was left was a horrible creature with intact ears who would be forced to listen to the screams and cries of horror brought about by his visage. 

This scared Humperdinck so badly that he gave up without a fight. 

“He lied,” said Spock, as on screen Westley wobbled clearly in no position to have carried out his threat. 

“He bluffed,” corrected Jim with a grin. “A good one too!”

Spock tilted his head. “I do not understand. You approve of his tactic?”

“Well, yeah. He won, and proved that Humperdinck was a coward,” said Jim. “Not using his brawn but his brains.”

“There was no guarantee that this tactic would prove effective,” said Spock, clearly not understanding. “Why would he run this risk?”

“He didn‘t have a choice,” added McCoy. “Look at how he‘s feeling. He can barely hold himself up.”

Jim nodded. “If Humperdinck had noticed it than he and Buttercup would both be dead. He had to take the chance because there was no choice in the matter.”

Spock considered this, as Inigo showed up in the room and asked Westley if he wanted to kill Humperdinck for him. Westley told him that he rather that he live with the knowledge that he was a coward. Fezzik’s voice called up to them. He’d found four white horses in he stables that he thought that they could use to escape. The three joined him down at the courtyards and the scene changed to them riding across the land. 

The grandfather’s voice over explained how they knew they were safe when they weren’t pursued. He then began reading the ending but cut himself off. His grandson asked why and this grandfather told him that he didn’t want to hear about more kissing. The grandson said slowly that he didn’t mind. So the grandfather read the ending of a kiss between Westley and Buttercup that was the best and purest kiss to have ever existed. 

“Not a bad movie at all,” said McCoy, as the grandfather agreed to come back to read the story to his grandson again with an ‘as you wish.’

“Didn‘t I tell you?” said Jim, smugly. “It‘s a great movie.”

“I was a rather imaginative created narrative,” said Spock, as the credits rolled. 

The lights of the rec room slowly rose up in brightness. 

“I‘m afraid that‘s going to be the last movie, guys,” said Jim. “I‘d try to go for number three but it‘s late enough and we have to head down to the planet in the morning at 0800.”

McCoy nodded. “And there‘s the fact that you need to show up beforehand to med-bay.”

Jim grimaced. Spock’s nose scrunched up. 

McCoy glowered at them. “I can still stop you both from going remember.”

“Fine, Bones,” sighed Jim. “We‘ll be there.”

Spock silently stood and gathered his tricorder and PADD in his arms. 

Jim picked up his mostly full tub of kettle corn, because the kid didn’t have enough hands to juggle everything and carried it, and the remains of his own snacks over to the table. 

“I asked Maintenance to stop by and clear up everything,” said McCoy. “We can leave this here.”

“Good call,” said Jim. 

They headed out of the rec room together, McCoy and Jim trailing after Spock as the boy walked ahead of them. They were amused that Spock kept his eyes on his PADD, going over his notes more than he watched where he was going. Fortunately, the kid had a pretty good sense of space because he didn’t run it anything. Spock didn’t even look up once they were in the turbolift. 

Jim and McCoy just grinned at each other. 

Spock being glued to his tricorder and his PADD of recorded information was a sight they were rather used to seeing. Just not when Spock was so little. 

“I need to talk to you about something, Jim,” said McCoy as the reached Spock’s quarters.

“Come on, Spock,” said Jim. “I‘ve got to talk to Bones for a minutes, go on in without me.”

This made Spock finally look up and he nodded seriously. Then he paused, an odd hesitancy crossing his face before he straightened and said, “As you wish, Jim.”

He promptly turned and vanished through the door of his quarters.

Jim stared after him feeling completely flabbergasted.


	13. Chapter 13

Jim knew he looked like a monumental idiot gaping at the closed door to Spock’s quarters but he was too stunned to wipe the look from his face. 

At least, not until Bones chuckled loudly from behind him.

Jim spun on his heel to look at him. He took in his friend’s amused and not-at-all-surprised expression and yelped. “You knew?!” 

Jim stared wide-eyed at his friend as McCoy nodded and smirked.

“Why do you think I wanted to talk to you for a minute?” asked McCoy. 

“Bones! How did you-! When did you-!” sputtered Jim.

“When did I notice the kid has a crush on you the size of the Enterprise?” asked McCoy, translating the nearly garbled questions into a coherent one.

Jim choked at the word ‘crush’. Spock has a crush on him? That just wasn’t possible. It was like being told that mass did not exert a gravitational force without some outside force acting on it. It went against the very laws of the universe.

“I noticed when you were teasing him about who he wanted to kiss. The kid kept looking at you out of the corners of his eyes,” said McCoy. “It was pretty easy to figure out he was thinking of you.”

Jim stared at him. Then he closed his eyes and furiously shook his head like a dog trying to shake off water. 

It didn’t make the revelation any easier to swallow. 

Spock - grownup version - and him were only friends. Good friends.

He wasn’t as close to Spock as he was to Bones, after all he’d know Bones for years. But their relationship was slowly getting as deep. Jim trusted Spock at his back and he knew that Spock would protect him with his own life. Just as Spock trusted Jim to do the same thing in. 

And okay, Jim wasn’t going to deny that his thoughts sometimes drifted over how attractive Spock was. It wasn‘t hard to, after all Spock was a pretty good-looking man without adding the nearly irresistible extras such as his brains and strength, physical and mental. But Jim often had a thought or two about nearly everyone on his crew. It wasn’t his fault that his ship was crewed by gorgeous people. 

Yet those thoughts had only stayed thoughts. He was the captain. He couldn’t go around propositioning the same people he had so much authority over. That constituted an abuse of his position. Not that it he would protest if they in turn propositioned him, but he also had to think about the appearance of favoritism. And among the lower ranking crew there would always be a nagging doubt that they were sleeping with him because of his rank. He’d rather be certain that the person wanted him for him, or he stuck with one-night stands. 

Not that this at all stopped him from flirting with his crew because he was pretty certain that everyone on the ship knew that it was just going to stay at flirting. He did flirt all the time with Spock but he did that a lot on the bridge to stave off boredom especially with-

Jim could literally feel the blood draining from his face as he paled. 

“Jesus, Jim. You‘re a white as ghost!” said McCoy, reaching out a hand in concern. 

Jim swallowed and met his eyes. “I just had a horrible thought. A terrible, horrible thought.”

McCoy frowned and asked gently, “What thought?”

“When Uhura hears about this? She is going to kill me,” said Jim, swallowing hard. “She is going to hunt me down and stick my severed head on her wall as a warning to others for poaching on her territory.”

McCoy burst out laughing.

Jim shot him an exasperated look. “Bones! This is your best friend’s life that‘s on the line. You should be a little more concerned. No. Seriously, stop laughing. She‘s going to kill me.”

McCoy laughed harder. He had to lean against a bulkhead to hold himself up. 

“Jim- Jim- stop freaking out,” he finally gasped. Chuckling, McCoy added, “It‘s a crush for god sakes. It isn‘t like the kid has declared his intention to marry you.”

“From Spock? That practically was a marriage proposal,” said Jim, still grumpy over the amusement on McCoy’s face. 

“Come on, Jim,” said McCoy. “Of course the kid cares for you. You‘re the only one he‘s had the most contact with the entire time he‘s been changed. Think back to when you were a kid, it shouldn‘t be too hard. It wasn‘t that long ago.” Jim made a face at him. “Didn‘t you have a crush on a teacher when you were his age?”

Jim thought about it. It was true. As a kid he had plenty of crushes on his school teachers. 

_But then,_ Jim thought. _I was pretty much kissing everyone who’d hold still long enough._ Yet he also remembered being gently dissuaded of his affections by those teachers and how crushed he’d felt when he‘d been rejected. It never lasted long but while it had it hurt like nothing else.

“I don‘t want to break Spock‘s heart,” said Jim soberly. “He‘s only nine years old, Bones. The man barely reaches out enough as it is when he‘s fully grown. I don‘t want to make him stop doing it when he‘s so young. I don‘t think I could forgive myself for hurting him.”

McCoy’s amusement finally waned. “Just treat him like you always do, Jim. He‘s not going to be nine for long. There’s a good chance that he‘ll grow out of it.”

“You don‘t sound like you believe that,” accused Jim. 

“Well, you‘re the one that said it. He‘s Spock,” said McCoy with a roll of his eyes. “He‘s not the sort of person who would say such a thing unless he really meant it. You’ve been doing a fine job so far. Just don’t screw up.”

Jim went back to feeling worried and panicked. He did not do well with declarations of love. And from Spock? A person that he respected, admired and really, really liked? Jim honestly didn’t even know how to begin to address such a situation. He didn’t want to reacting with a ‘that’s so weird’ like he’d done last time someone had told him she‘d loved him. 

He still kicking himself for that reaction. Even more so after learning that Gaila had been on the Farragut. 

He didn’t want to mess up Spock before the kid returned to being his first officer. 

_What if I drive Spock to ask for a transfer to another ship?_ Jim groaned and hid his face in his hands. 

McCoy clapped him on the shoulder. “You can do this. After all, how many times do you remind us how you don‘t believe in no-win scenarios?”

“This isn‘t exactly the scenario that I had in mind,” said Jim, looking up enough to glare at McCoy over his fingertips. He added sarcastically, “and way to rub my own words back into my face, you‘re such a pal.”

McCoy just rolled his eyes. “Stop being so thickheaded. The kid likes you - for reasons that I have yet to understand - all while you‘re still being you.”

This made Jim finally drop his hands from his eyes. It did make him feel a little better.

“Now go on! And don‘t worry about the scans tonight, I‘d rather you had a full night’s sleep so just use the bio-sensor,” added McCoy as he smirked and shoved Jim in the direction of the door to Spock’s quarters. 

Jim ended up close enough that the automatic sensors locked on him and the door swooshed open. Jim swallowed hard and entered only pausing to look back at McCoy to toss him one final glare. 

Then he walked in and found Spock sitting in front of the computer unit. Just staring monitor as if to give his eyes something to do while his mind was a million parsecs away.

Spock’s expression when he looked up was paler and much more strained than usual which gave Jim the impression that the kid was terrified out of his mind. Surprisingly enough that evidence of fear only served to lessen Jim’s own worry instead of making him feel worse. He wasn’t going to do anything to hurt the kid. And no matter what, Jim knew at his core that he cared an awful lot for Spock. 

He wouldn’t have spent so many off-duty hours with him, - grown up version and the child version - if he didn’t enjoy Spock’s company.

 _Maybe Bones and I are reading this all wrong and Spock only intends to mean friendship?_ Jim knew that he was grasping at straws when even his own mental voice didn’t sound convinced of the excuse he was trying to provide.

“Hey, Spock,” said Jim softly and - though he hated to admit it - hesitantly.

“Was your discussion with the doctor satisfactory?” asked Spock, his face still strained but his voice was emotionally flat.

“Yeah,” said Jim, and he grabbed the other chair in the room and dragged it over to Spock‘s side. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

This made Spock stiffen in his chair. The small expressiveness in his face vanished completely until there was nothing there that Jim could read from him. 

Jim mentally cursed.

As he sat down before the kid, Jim quickly debated on what to do. He was momentary taken by the idea of simply ignoring the entire situation. Like Bones has reminded him, Spock was growing rapidly as he age jumped and maybe the situation would really resolve itself. Only the ‘maybe’ tripped him up. If there was more certainty than he would happily have gone with that plan.

But before he could muster up the courage to talk about such sticky things as ‘feelings’ with the last person in his life he thought he would ever be having such a discussion with, Spock spoke first. 

“Do you still want to know how Vulcans expressed themselves with their bondmates?” asked Spock, his voice serious.

Jim blinked in surprise at this question. “What?”

“There is a gesture somewhat similar to the human habit of kissing mouths,” said Spock. He held up his small hands with his fore finger and middle finger extended while the other fingers in his hand remained curled inward. 

Spock then held out the hand to Jim. 

Jim stared at Spock’s small fingers again feeling very shocked. 

_Vulcans kiss with their hands?_

That piece of information was one that he’d never come across before. Hell, he hadn’t even known that Vulcans kissed at all. He would have thought that they considered such a gesture to be too romantic to be logical. He never would have thought that Vulcans had their own style of kissing. 

And made Jim remember sharply how often Spock would seek out his own hand when he was emotionally stressed. Jim had thought it a left over habit of when he held hands when he was barely six years old. But now he had to consider that maybe it wasn’t that at all, after all Spock was no longer that tiny five year old child.

“Spock,” said Jim softly, still staring at his small held out hand, “you‘re only nine years old.”

“10 years, 2 months, 1 day and 5.23 hours old,” corrected Spock. 

“Ten… fine you‘re ten years old,” admitted Jim. “I‘m still a lot older than you. You should… you should care for someone closer to your age.”

Spock slowly dropped his hand and all his fingers curled in.

Jim exhaled slowly at the mild slumping of the boy’s shoulders. 

“That is a logical argument,” said Spock slowly. His eyes dropped to the deck as he thought. “Yet you must also consider that my current age is not my true age. I will eventually became older and therefore closer to your own before too long.” 

At the end of his speech, Spock raised his face and caught Jim’s eyes with him own. There was a lot of determination in his brown eyes. 

“Yeah, that‘ true,” admitted Jim, not having any way out of that argument. _Yes, and hopefully by then all your memories will have come back too. Maybe your urge to kill me will arise from the outfits I stuck you in and not from the idea that I had somehow managed to get to you emotionally. Old you hates when I do that._

Talk about that being an awkward conversation to have with his first officer. And here Jim had thought that his incitement of Spock’s emotionally compromised state in order to gain control of the Enterprise wouldn’t never be toppled from its position of number one conversation he would never want to relive again.

“Very well, I shall refrain from further expressions of my regard until my age has sufficiently advanced so that you do not see me as a child,” said Spock, with a firm nod.

Jim stared at him. That wasn’t what he wanted to talk Spock about. _How in the world did I lose control of this conversation?_ Jim wondered. 

“I will prepare myself for sleep. You should also do the same,” said Spock, as he stood up and walked away from the computer. 

“Do you need me to replicate more pajamas for you?” asked Jim absently, still bewildered by the situation he’d found himself in and at how neatly Spock had shut down his protests. _Why do I get the feeling that Spock is just going to become even more unstoppable as he gets older?_

Well, it wasn’t like Jim didn’t know how to relate to a grownup Spock, it was just the young one that kept catching off guard by how much open he was with what he was feeling.

“It will not be necessary. I have replicated a new set of clothes for tonight and for the away mission,” said Spock, as he walked over to the bed. There, on top of the covers, were two sets of clothes that Jim hadn’t noticed as he had been too distracted by his thoughts and by Spock.

Jim felt a deep pang of disappointment. It seemed that Spock had finally gotten too old to let Jim pick out his clothes. Yet he was also pleased when he saw that Spock had replicated another bigger set of coveralls. This time they were the shade of blue as his science uniform top and he’d stuck with a black inner shirt instead of the tribble print. 

“Spock,” said Jim.

“Yes, Jim,” said Spock, pausing at the entrance to the restroom. 

“You‘re getting close to having the memories of T‘Pring‘s death come back to you,” Jim reminded him. “If they return when I‘m asleep you should wake me up. I don‘t want you to face them alone.”

Spock’s eyes gleamed in that pleased way which made Jim smile at him. 

Jim also noticed how his smile - the first one that he’d given Spock since he’d entered the room - made the stoic mask that Spock was wearing loosen up even further. Until more expressive pleasure leaked through in the crinkled corners of Spock’s eyes.

Spock nodded and entered the bathroom closing the door behind him. 

Jim sat back and rubbed his eyes. 

_Well, I’ve had more awkward conversations and definitely more uncomfortable break ups,_ Jim thought in amusement. Then he frowned. _Not that Spock took it as a refusal so much as not now._

Sometimes, Jim deeply suspected the universe took perverse pleasure in throwing him into these sort of situations just to watch him flail in panic. He mentally braced himself, then stood up to fish out his own sleeping clothes where he’d managed to toss them in his hurry to get dressed to face Sarek only a few hours ago. 

Then he was back to laughing at himself because who knew what he’d be facing tomorrow, from the planet or from Spock. And like Bones himself had said he was bound to end up in even more hot water.  
*-*-*-*

Jim slept surprisingly well. 

Mostly because not having to wake up every two hours made it so that he could actually get REM sleep without being forced awake too early. Also, if Spock had any nightmares that night, the boy had remained too quiet for Jim to be woken by them. 

_I just hope that means that Spock didn’t have any nightmares,_ Jim thought fuzzily as he stretched before opening his eyes to look around for Spock. 

He sat bolt upright when he didn’t see the boy anywhere in sight.

“Spock!” Jim called out. He didn’t get a response. Jim called for lights and jumped out of bed. He first checked the restroom but didn’t find Spock. Then he thought to have the computer pin-point his location with an intership search.

Jim stared in surprise at the screen where Spock was shown to be in the mess hall. 

“What the hell?”

Spock hadn’t voluntarily left Jim’s side since he’d first taken the boy’s hand in sickbay and now he‘d gone out into the ship without so much as telling Jim where he was going. Jim felt oddly bereft to have been left alone without the kid. _We may be getting a little too codependent,_ Jim thought wryly. He certainly hadn’t felt this adhered to his first officer’s side.

It wasn’t like Spock couldn’t go damn well anywhere he liked in the ship. He wasn’t going to get himself into trouble when every single member of the crew would be keeping an eye on him wherever he went because they were too fascinated with him. 

So, Jim shook his head at his own reaction to his lack of Spock. Then he got his ass moving because it was 0650 and he was suppose to show up with Spock in medical bay in less than an hour before they headed down to the planet. So he got a brand new uniform to wear, his kit and went into restroom to take a shower. 

Jim wasn’t long at it so he was startled when he came out to see that Spock had returned to the room on his own and was even more surprised when he realized that the kid had brought back breakfast for the two of them.

“Oh wow,” said Jim. He stared at the table that had been brought into the room. On top of the table were two plate stacked with flapjacks, a jug of orange juice, and a small bowl of fruit toppings. There was even butter and maple syrup off to the side. 

Jim stared at the flower arrangement in the middle. He was more baffled by it than he was by anything else on the table. 

“Yeoman Rand was most helpful in the selection of the breakfast item for which you would have the most preference,” said Spock. He was standing by the table, his back was straight and his eyes looked pleased by Jim’s reaction.

“She helped?” Well that would explain the flowers. Spock didn’t exactly strike him as the type go about sticking flora on a table top.

“Yes. Since my own rest requirements are less than is usual for a human I thought that it would help our schedule to acquire sustenance,” explained Spock. “Yeoman Rand offered her assistance.”

Jim nodded and sat down on the chair that was before the biggest stack of food.

“Have you had this before?” asked Jim, pointing at the flapjacks. 

Spock nodded. “Yeoman Rand replicated a small sample for me to try beforehand. It is acceptable.”

“That‘s good,” said Jim. He picked up a fork and gestured at Spock to join him. 

Spock sat down across from him and they both ate their food. 

As much as Jim enjoyed the quiet meal between just the two of them, he did feel somewhat amused by what was essentially breakfast in bed. He couldn’t help but wonder were Spock had picked this up from. It could have been anything from the computer library databanks to something he’d learned from watching his parents.

He was too curious to resist asking, “Where did you get the idea for all this?”

Spock paused in mid-bite before carefully chewing and swallowing. He explained, “My mother would often break fast with my father in their personal quarters.”

Jim nodded and couldn’t help but be bemused over Spock using such romantic gesture. Somehow he didn’t think that the kid had an idea of how the gesture read, even with Spock’s apparent crush on him. The kid was too relaxed about it. 

Jim rather suspected Rand’s influence.

The computer’s alarm when off at 0730. It was a reminder that Jim had set to have Spock and Jim head down to med-bay. Fortunately, they were mostly done eating. 

“Come on, Spock. Bones should be waiting for us in the medical bay.”

Spock nodded and neatly left his utensils by the plate. “Yeoman Rand informed me that she would have members Maintenance stop by to collect the table and the left over cutlery.”

“That’s good,” said Jim. He went to the kit extra items that Rand had brought over and found the a communicator, which he strapped to his side.

“Jim, would it be permissible to bring along the tribble?” asked Spock. 

Jim considered it. “It should be fine. Why don‘t you see if Cromtic is one of those planets where tribbles are banned?”

“Very well,” said Spock. He double-checked the computer. “According to the databanks, Cromtic does not have any ban on the animals.”

“Then bring it along,” said Jim. “I don‘t know how much you‘ll have to do down at the planet. It may help for you to have it.” If he became involved in too much diplomatic talk then there was a pretty good chance that Spock would be bored out of his mind. At least the tribble would be helpful in providing a distraction for the kid.

Spock nodded and collected the tribble from its cage. It purred happily as soon as Spock lifted it out and tucked into his front pocket. He also grabbed his tricorder, put the strap over his head and settled it against his hip. This time he left his PADD behind.

“You‘re not bringing a jacket along?” asked Jim, watching Spock curiously.

“I have studied the planet‘s sensor readings. The temperature of the planet is within tolerable temperature limits for a Vulcan,” explained Spock.

Jim nodded as he held back a grimace. He’d forgotten that the planet was an awful lot like a giant rainforest with high temperatures and too much humidity for comfort. Fortunately, from the reports Jim had read, the indoors were dry even if they weren’t that much cooler. So, it should be perfect for Spock‘s physiology.

“You‘ve got everything you need, Spock?”

“Yes, Jim,” said Spock. 

“Then lets go suffer through our shots,” sighed Jim. 

Spock’s nose instantly wrinkled.  
*-*-*-*

“And how much pain have you been in, Jim?” asked McCoy. 

Jim shot him a startled look. He’d been watching Spock be checked out by M’Benga and had been ignoring his friend since all Bones was doing was running scans on his body.

“I‘m fine!”

“Right,” said McCoy, sarcastically. 

“No, really,” insisted Jim. “Since you sneak hit me with those painkillers I‘ve been pretty good. Only a bit of aching now and again.”

McCoy’s look of satisfaction made Jim narrow his eyes at him. 

“There weren’t just painkillers in that hypo were there?” said Jim, suspicious of his smugness.

McCoy smirked. “Just a little chemical boost to get the cells in your liver to divide faster, which _I_ came up with.”

Jim groaned, “Tell me Bones, do you see me more as your captain or your lab rat?”

McCoy ignored this question. “Just be glad that you‘re almost back to 100 percent.”

Jim brightened. That was good news. According Bones’ first diagnosis, Jim would've had another week and a half of light duties before he was fully healed and cleared. By jumping up that timetable that meant that a lot of pressure that would have come down from Starfleet Command to get Spock aged up would now be off them. 

“Does this mean I don‘t have to suffer through your drinking at me?” asked Jim with a grin. “And I can finally join in?”

“No,” said McCoy, flatly. “You got two more weeks on that.”

Jim crossed his arms and sulked. “Don‘t lab rats at least get treats?”

“Keep yourself in one piece and you can sit at the captain‘s chair in three days,” said McCoy.

“Three days?” asked Jim, now beaming. “That‘s great!”

“I know,” said McCoy, back to being smug. “Now hold still.”

And he stuck Jim with three hyposprays in a row. 

“Ow! You bastard!” Jim winced and rubbed his neck. “Give me more warning next time.”

McCoy snorted and walked off to do who knew what another person’s unsuspecting neck.

“Are you alright, Jim?” asked Spock. 

Jim blinked, and looked over at Spock, who was gazing back to him. His mouth was turning down at the corners. 

“Yeah, its just Bones being Bones,” said Jim as he dropped his hand from his neck. “I think he enjoys doing that way too much.”

“Yeah, like I enjoy having your ass constantly in my medical bay,” grumped McCoy as he returned. “All you do is harass my doctors and nurses.”

Jim grinned as Spock’s slanted eyebrow went up at this bit of information.

“Now take these pills and then you’re free. You can go down to the planet,” continued McCoy. 

Jim took them. “What? No chocolate coating to make them go down easier?”

“Take them before I find a more painful way for you to take them!”

Jim grinned and dry swallowed the pills. 

“So M‘Benga, how‘s Spock doing?” asked Jim, finally standing up and moving from the bio-bed and to Spock’s side. 

“The Commander‘s health is optimal, captain.” said M’Benga. 

“How old are you now, Spock?” asked McCoy, also joining them. 

“My current age is 10 years, 2 months, 2 weeks, 5 days and 1.67 hours old,” said Spock. 

“Is there anything I should know about since his memories of the loss of the mental link with T‘Pring? They’ll come back pretty soon,” said Jim.

M’Benga shook his head. “The commander has gone over with me on what he needs to do in order to minimize the affects of the memory returning to him. He shouldn‘t have any trouble in controlling it. He already had the backlash of the loss of the link. All that he‘ll deal with is the memory of the girl‘s death.”

 _Which is going to be pretty damned grim all on its own,_ thought Jim. 

“I‘ll have something with me in my med-kit in case he goes into shock,” said McCoy, in reaction to Jim‘s expression. 

Spock raised an eyebrow at this comment. He protested, “Vulcans do not suffer shock as you would medically consider such a term.”

“Shock is shock,” argued McCoy.

“A Vulcan‘s control over his nervous system is more extensive than humans,” M’Benga reminded them. 

Jim gave McCoy a subtle look. McCoy caught it and nodded back. 

Jim was satisfied that Bones would bring every single thing he even briefly thought he would need down to Cromtic with them. Jim remembered too vividly how he felt when Spock had collapsed on him in the mess. The last thing he wanted to face is a similar situation when they were off the Enterprise and away from its medical facilities. At least with Bones being with them, Jim trusted that the kid would be in good hands.

Spock carefully stepped down from the bio-bed and stood next to Jim’s side. 

“Then if we‘re all set lets go down to Cromtic,” said Jim as he began walking out of the med-bay.

Spock nodded and followed. 

McCoy sighed and gathered his kit before he trailed after them. “Jim, do you have any idea how long the Cromticians leaders will want to look at the kid?”

Jim shook his head. “Sulu has sent up an additional report. It seems that they want to ask him questions. Probably to double check how we’re treating him.”

“What do they think we‘re doing to Spock?” asked McCoy, frowning in puzzlement. 

Jim shrugged. “Considering how startled High-Priest Engineer Kret was when Uhura explained to him how Vulcans live, it may just be that they want to double check that aspect of Vulcan culture. I don‘t think that they‘re a people that understand how someone would chose to suppress all their emotions.”

“I can‘t blame that for that,” said McCoy, with a look at Spock. “I still don‘t get that either.”

Spock calmly ignored him. 

“Well, you‘ve had the most contact with the Cromticians of the three of us,” said Jim, “is there anything you want to tell us about them?”

“Just keep an eye on their antennae,” said McCoy, after a moment. 

“I will endeavor to do so,” said Spock. “Jim, do you think that there will sufficient free time available for me to run scans on the biology and geology of the planet?

“I‘ll make sure you have some time to look around,” promised Jim. It shouldn’t be too difficult. That was one of those benefits of being the captain. He could control the schedule of when to beam up and beam down. All he really had to do was get permission from the Cromtician leadership in order for them to stay longer. Which shouldn’t pose any kind of difficulty. They certainly hadn’t had a problem with their additional away teams that they’d sent down to find a way to help Spock.

The corner of Spock’s mouth twitched up before it flattened again.

McCoy groaned as they walked into the transporter bay. “I hate transporters.”

The same techs that had beamed the away party yesterday morning were once again at their stations. They exchanged amused grins over McCoy’s complaint. One of the techs made an air mark in the air as if adding to a tally while the other’s grin widened. 

Jim stifled a snicker at their actions while an oblivious Bones continued his grumbling. 

Spock gave the techs a look, then McCoy before he raised an eyebrow at Jim. 

“Bones doesn‘t like transporters,” explained Jim. “Well… hates it is more like it.”

Spock turned to McCoy. “Transporter technology has a high safety rating. This a conclusion arrived at by various independent studies, both Human and Vulcan.”

“It just ain‘t natural,” said McCoy, crossing his arms and scowling at the transport pad.

Now, Jim had to grin because his first officer had once said the exact same thing to Bones only to have an argument break out between the two. 

Jim didn’t know if it was Spock’s softer delivery or possibly Spock’s current youth but Bones didn’t snap back his reply like than he normally would. Bones got testy when transporters and shuttles were so close to him. It amused Jim so much to think that it wasn’t just Spock who was learning to relate better to humans but also that humans such as Bones were learning to better read the meaning behind Spock’s words. 

Spock wasn’t being condescending. He was trying to reassure Bones just in the manner he knew best which was facts and figures. 

Jim was the first on the transporter pad and waited until Bones and Spock were in place before he nodded at the techs. 

“Energize.”


	14. Chapter 14

The brilliant white light swirled around him and then after several seconds it dispersed as the away team rematerialized on the surface of the planet Cromtic.

Jim blinked rapidly to clear his eyes before wincing as the heat and humidity hit him like a hammer. The difference in temperature felt all the greater with their sharp jump from the ship’s cooler environment. As sweat broke out in beads on his brow, Jim looked behind him to double check that Spock and Bones had made it down with him safely. 

Okay, so some of Bones’ paranoia about transporters had sunk into his head after all these years. He’d just never tell the man because then Bones would truly never stop griping about them.

Bones looked green, like he was going to throw up at any moment. A look that Jim was entirely too familiar with. He took a hurried step away, reaching out to tug Spock back along with him and out of splash range.

“Ugh,” moaned McCoy. He put his hand over his eyes and shuddered. 

At Jim’s side, this was when Spock picked the moment to sneeze. 

It was such an unexpected sound that all that Jim stared down at the kid in surprise and thoroughly succeeded in distraction McCoy from his nauseous reaction at being transported. 

Even Spock stared crossed-eyed at his own nose. “I am not accustomed to breathing in such high levels of humidity,” Spock explained in response to their wide-eyed expressions. He scrunched the tip of his own nose, then wiggled it. “I will adjust momentarily.”

Spock sneezed again. 

Jim had never ever heard Spock sneeze before. It was surprisingly adorable and high-pitched. He wondered what it would take to make his first officer sneeze like that when he was fully grown again. He’d have to find out for purely scientific reasons, of course.

Jim grinned and turned his attention to their new surroundings. 

They had rematerialized into a large inner garden, overhanging green plants in brightly colored round clay pots dangled from the ceiling. Flowers, trimmed bushes, ferns and small trees surrounded them. Light came in through transparent circular openings in the ceilings and walls. 

Everything was bright and cheerful. 

It made Jim feel relaxed. Though, it did help that he knew that people of this planet were friendly.

“Captain!” called a familiar voice. 

“Sulu! I was wondering where you were,” said Jim, as he watched Sulu walk into view from around a tree. 

Sulu flushed pink. “Sorry, sir. I got distracted by some of the plants they have here. I haven‘t had as much time to look over them as I‘d like,” he said wistfully. “And even less time since Mr. Spock was turned into a child.”

Spock eyed Sulu cautiously.

“That‘s fine, lieutenant. Taking time to explore a new place is what we are about. Now, what should we know about the Cromtician leaders before we meet them?” asked Jim. 

“A lot of the information has been passed along the reports, sir,” said Sulu, his expression now perfectly professional. “They‘re a pretty straightforward bunch. Even the politicians don‘t see the point of lying.”

Jim’s eyebrows went up. 

“Are you sure I can‘t emigrate here?” asked McCoy, giving Jim a sly glance. “It sounds more and more like my kind of place.”

Jim scowled at him. “Keep up that kind of talk and I‘ll make M‘Benga the CMO.”

“Maybe, I want you to,” said McCoy with a scowl right back.

Spock just watched this for a moment before letting his attention be captured by the alien flora.

Sulu grinned at his commanding officers’ bantering. “I thought you hated the heat, doctor.”

“Oh, I‘m sure that some mint juleps would take care of that,” said McCoy, dismissively. 

Spock tilted his head with a curious look at McCoy. “Mint juleps?”

“They‘re a drink,” explained Jim. “An alcoholic drink.”

“Remind me to get you some to try when you‘re old enough,” said McCoy, with a devilish gleam in his eyes. 

Jim suppressed a grin. He’d pay a stack of credits to see if Bones was able to convince Spock of drinking alcohol.

Spock’s nose wrinkled at the suggestion.

“Where‘s Uhura?” asked Jim, looking around in silent dread.

“Lieutenant Uhura is still with Lieutenant Keenser‘s group,” said Sulu. “She should be along soon. There was a last minute glitch in the translation of the schematic they‘re using to build the ageing machine.”

Jim nodded, feeling more than a little relieved. He ignored the smirk that Bones was now giving him. 

“This way, Captain,” said Sulu. “The Cromtician leaders are waiting for us.”

“Lead the way, Sulu,” said Jim, following as Sulu led them along a small stone path through the garden. Spock closely followed at his right side while McCoy stayed at his left. 

Spock kept his eyes on the garden around them. From the interest in his eyes, Jim could guess that the kid wanted to stop and scan all the alien vegetation. But to do so would slow them down too much so he refrained. 

“We’ll stop back later on and you can look around,” said Jim to him. 

Spock nodded. “I would be most appreciative to have the opportunity to run scans on the Cromtician vegetation.”

Sulu turned enough to shoot Spock an interested look. “Do you have a special interest in xenobotany, Mr. Spock?”

Spock looked back at him calmly. He said, “Xenobotany is one of the fields that I‘m currently studying as part of my standard education.”

Sulu smiled widely. “If you‘re taking scans I would like it if I could get a copy of your readings to study later,” he said. “The root system of their plants if amazing! This continent has periodic small earthquakes-”

“Ugh, maybe I won‘t immigrate here,” muttered McCoy.

They all ignored him. 

“- so the plant roots have evolved with some pretty intricate systems to stay upright between quakes. Their trees alone have developed vines that connect to the surrounding area to keep them from toppling over,” said Sulu, enthusiastically. 

Jim’s attention drifted away from the conversation as Spock listened to Sulu in rapt fascination. _He_ didn’t have any particular interest in xenobotany. Anyway, if it was really that interesting, Spock was bound to mention it later. 

They progressed through the garden and to a circular doorway that was without a door. Instead, a red shimmer fell across it.

A force field, Jim noted. 

Sulu continued walking until he passed through it. The force field was weak enough that Sulu met only a slight resistance before he turned and beckoned. Jim followed at once. The force field felt a lot like trying to pass through gelatin. Kind of sticky and with enough electrical energy to lift the hairs on his arms but easy enough to move through.

Spock was right at his heels. McCoy grimaced and closed his eyes as he pushed through.

“That‘s different,” said Jim, looking at the force field in interest. 

“Yes, sir. The Cromticians use it in order to filter out any insects from their fur. They have a real problem with the insects of their planet using their fur to lay their eggs. This is the best way they‘ve developed to deal with that problem,” said Sulu.

“Huh,” said Jim. “That‘s a smart way to solve that.”

“Clever,” agreed McCoy. “I can name several people in the South who‘d love to have that to get rid of all kinds of pests from their homes.”

Sulu promptly led them into a large chamber that held five grown Cromticians. They wore deep red stoles around their necks that hung to their furred abdomens. An obvious sign of their rank in their society. 

Jim was fascinated by the small Cromticians that sat down at the sides of the adults. Four Cromtician children, that were all a good head shorter than Spock. They looked like light grey balls of puffy fur, round with blunt snouts and wide brown eyes. Their antennae were shorter than the adults and a brighter shade of red.

Jim could barely see their hands and feet, they were so lost in the fluffy soft-looking fur. 

“They have their children with them?” asked Jim. He hadn‘t expected too see their children here.

Sulu nodded but before he could answer a familiar old voice answered for him. 

“We keep our children with us until they are fully grown, Captain known as James Tiberius Kirk.”

Jim and everyone else turned to see High-Priest Engineer Kret standing behind them. Uhura was right behind him. 

Jim tried not to panic at the sight of her. He did note that Uhura’s reaction to Spock was a lot better than it had been before. This time she actually smiled a sincere smile at the kid. 

Since, he didn’t want to be caught staring Jim focused his attention on Kret, instead. “It‘s good to see you again,” said Jim. 

“It is pleasant to reforge our acquaintance,” said Kret with a bow and a wave of his outer two antennae while the middle one neatly bent in half in mimic of the bow. “If you would follow my path, I shall introduce your presences to the leaders.”

Jim nodded and Kret preceded them until they stood before the Cromtician leadership council. 

From what Jim remembered from the reports on the planet, each continent had a chosen leader and the five of them made up the leadership council. They all lived together and would travel from continent to continent as a group to address the needs of their people. This was a position that they held for twenty years per term, which meant that the leaders really got to know each other until they practically became family from sheer proximity. An intentional side-effect, at least according to the analysis of previous missions to Cromtic by the xeno-cultural specialists. If the leaders could not manage to get along than the one who had the most trouble would voluntarily quit the council because they believed that such strife would upset the entire balance of the council in serving their people equally.

Jim had known that all five members would be meeting them he just hadn’t known that the children would also be here. 

“Leaders of the Way,” said Kret. “I present the human known as Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the Federation Way.”

Jim straightened and then stiffly bowed at the leaders. 

All five bowed shallowly in turn. Their children bobbed and wiggled their antennae in clear excitement. 

“I present the human known as Doctor Leonard McCoy of the Federation Way,” continued Kret. 

McCoy bowed back to the leaders. 

“The humans known as Hikaru Sulu and Nyota Uhura of the Federation Way are already known to you,” continued Kret. Both Sulu and Uhura bowed anyway. 

“And this is the human-Vulcan known as Commander Spock of the Federation Way, he whom the Cub Sphere has gifted,” said Kret. 

Solemnly, Spock bowed to the five Cromtician leaders. He had to put a hand to his chest to keep the tribble from tumbling out of the pocket.

The leaders’ bows to Spock were just as deep as they had bowed to the rest of the Starfleet officers, Jim was pleased to note. The Cromticians children became even more wiggly with excitement at learning that Spock was a child just like them. 

Kret then promptly turned and introduced every single Cromtician, even the children. 

Jim listened carefully as Kret said their names: Marh, Surn, Tilk, Gemt and Karn, for the leaders. Sotl, Yarm, Gerh, and Birn for the kids. But he admitted to himself that when it came to the children he quickly lost track of who was who. They looked too damned much alike for Jim to tell them apart.

“We have questions to pose to you, young one,” said Leader Marh, as soon as the introductions were completed, her voice was surprisingly melodic.

Spock straightened up with his shoulders pushed back. Solemnly, he nodded his acceptance. He said calmly, “I shall endeavor to answer your questions to the best of my ability.”

“Your aging is not as rapid as we think it should be,” said Leader Surn, his voice rougher than any other Cromticians Jim had heard speak. It sounded a lot of as if he was gargling rocks. Well, maybe just small pebbles. “We are concerned about your status aboard the starship.”

Jim bit his lower lip to keep from sticking his nose into the conversation. He was somewhat insulted that the Cromticians didn’t think that his people on the Enterprise would be taking care of one of their own as well as they could. He resisted the urge to point out that they were in this situation because of one of their own people. 

They weren’t here to assign blame, even if he itched to respond.

“It is not necessary,” said Spock, coolly. “The captain is personally overseeing my care and has been most attentive.”

Jim was amused by Spock’s defensive reaction. Clearly, he wasn’t that happy either about insinuation that Jim wasn’t caring for Spock to the best of his ability. 

“That you have not found happiness enough be filled with joy to return to your regular age is of most concern to us,” said Leader Marh, her voice softer, “because it is our responsibility that you have been changed.”

Jim blinked in surprise. 

He was startled that the leaders were willing to accept the blame for what had happened to Spock as a whole instead of letting Kret be the only one to shoulder the blame. Most politicians wouldn’t have been so willing to accept the fault of one of their people as their own. At the very least this proved to Jim that the Cromtician leaders were serious when they said that they represented their people. They meant it as more than just pretty words.

Jim approved. He listened with interest as the Cromtician leaders asked Spock to explain to them the Vulcan Way of life. 

Spock did. 

They were rather quiet afterward. 

Jim noted that their antennae, the outer ones that denoted emotional expression were drooping as if taken aback.

“Captain James Tiberius Kirk,” said Leader Surn, softly, “the people from the your planet do not follow the Vulcan Way is that correct?”

Jim shook his head, then realized that particular body language probably had no significance to a Cromtician. “No, Leader Surn. Vulcans and humans are both members of the Federation but our species evolved on different planets and only came into contact a couple of hundred years ago. Humans have various… um... Ways of living which don‘t really ask for such emotional control.”

“Please excuse the extent of our questioning of your Way,” said Leader Tilk, her voice high and sweet. “We find humanoids species to be rather difficult to distinguish apart.”

Jim’s eyebrows went up. 

“We also do not find there to be much difference in the emotional expression of a Human in comparison to a Vulcan,” added Marh.

“I understand,” said Jim, thoughtfully as he considered their antennae again. It would make sense that a species that was used to reading emotional expression through the movements of their antennae would it difficult to read the subtle hints of facial expressions and body language. Most humanoids expressed their emotions through the muscles of their face. The Cromticians just didn’t evolve that direction. Just the way that their fur covered their faces meant that movements of muscles underneath were not at all visible.

To them, humans probably weren’t more expressive than Vulcans. Which was a rather surprising thought to consider.

 _But, I guess they aren’t that far from being wrong,_ Jim thought as he looked at Spock. _We’re close enough to be able to interbreed._

“Leaders of the Way,” Jim said, “Mr. Spock is ageing at a rapid rate even if it is not as fast as you think it should be. He is already approaching adolescence. In less than ten years he will be considered a full adult before the laws of the Federation. _I_ am not displeased at the speed in which he is aging.”

Spock’s stoic mask that he’d been keeping in place during his questioning broke down enough to look pleased at Jim’s defense of him. 

“It is simply illogical,” Jim continued, unable to resist grinning at his own choice of words, “to expect that a member of an entirely different species of sentience than your own to act just like a Cromtician.”

The leaders exchanged looks and their antennae curled around, once, twice before straightening back out.

Jim relaxed as he remembered seeing that motion before. The Cromticians were agreeing with his words. 

“Captain known as James Tiberius Kirk,” said Leader Gemt, the oldest of the leadership council. His pale red antennae moved slower than the rest. “We had heard that you were recovering from injuries. Are you now in sufficient health to provide the necessary guardianship of the cub known as Spock?”

 _Ah, so, it’s now my turn to be questioned._

“Yes,” said Jim simply. “But more importantly, I‘d still do it even if I was a hundred times more injured. Spock is a friend of mine. I‘d prefer to be the one to take care of him.”

The antennae of the Cromticians all waved in approved. Even the fluffy children’s shorter antennae practically blurred from their excitement at Jim’s words. The littlest of the Cromtician children, who barely got up past Jim’s knee, wiggled away from the side of Leader Marh and promptly attached itself to Jim’s leg. 

Jim stared down at him or her - he really couldn’t tell - in surprise. Big liquid brown eyes surrounded by grey fur beamed up at him. 

“Jim,” said McCoy, leaning over to also peer down at the little Cromtician kid over Jim‘s shoulder. “You‘ve told me you were a babe magnet. I didn‘t think you meant _baby_ magnet.”

“The cubs can detect a pure heart,” said Tilk, her antennae quivering in delight. 

Jim noted that all the leaders were watching his reaction.

“Pure?” scoffed McCoy, under his breath. Too low for the Cromticians to hear but loud enough for Jim to catch. 

Jim resisted rolling his eyes and bent down enough to scoop the child off his leg and into his arms. This made the cub become so excited that it became incredibly wiggly. 

Jim shot Marh a desperate look, now feeling nervous about accidentally dropping the kid. Somehow, Jim didn’t think that it’s fur would keep it from being hurt from such a fall, not matter how fluffy it was. And he had no idea how delicate those antennae were. He didn’t want to drop the cub on its head and end up finding out.

Marh and the others made a noise which sounded a lot like soft coughing as the cub tried to crawl all over Jim. Laughter, guessed Jim as their outer antennae made delighted motions. Then Marh came forward and plucked the small cub from Jim just as it managed to brace its arms against Jim’s shoulder. 

“Cub, you are too energetic today. Run with your siblings into the garden,” she said, setting the cub back to it’s feet. 

The cub looked back at Jim as if he or she was thinking of making another break for Jim’s legs again before running back to the other children. As one they broke rank and ran out the door that Jim and the others had entered through. 

“You should go with them, Spock,” said Jim, after a moment. He suspected that the next bits of diplomacy were going to get rather boring for kid and he might as well join the group in the garden.

Spock didn’t look like he was particularly taken by the idea.

“You can run those scans you wanted,” added Jim, as Spock refused to take a single step to follow the Cromtician children. “And you can ask them questions about Cromtic.”

That last suggestion made indecision appear subtly on Spock’s face. And Jim knew that he had him. Curiosity was one emotion that Spock had never been able to successfully repress, even at his older age. Kid Spock didn’t stand a chance against it. 

“I‘ll still be here. You can report back to me in an hour if I‘m not done by then,” finished Jim, grinning as Spock’s reluctantly nodded in agreement.

“Very well, Jim. I shall conduct my scans and will return to your side in less than one standard hour,” said Spock solemnly, before taking a step to follow the Cromtician kids.

“I‘m going with the kid,” said McCoy, unexpectedly. 

Jim raised his eyebrows at him in surprise. 

“Oh, you know I‘m no good at this diplomatic stuff,” grumbled McCoy as he followed after Spock. 

Jim grinned widely. He knew that Bones just wanted to keep an eye on Spock without being obvious to what he was doing. He’d have to tell him later that he was being as subtle as baseball bat to the face. Then Jim’s grin dropped as he realized that just left the Cromticians and Sulu to stand between him and Uhura.

 _Oh shit._ Jim shifted his gaze to Uhura and noticed that she was frowning. 

Not at him - by some stroke of luck - but rather at the Cromtician leaders.

“You were testing the captain,” said Uhura, her tone cool as she addressed the Cromticians. 

Jim’s attention snapped back to the leaders and his eyebrows went up. 

“Test?” he asked, warily. It was never a good thing when people tried to test him without his knowledge. Frankly, he hated it. Jim frowned at the leaders. The expression must have been one that the leaders had learned when it came to reading humanoids because they instantly reacted to it.

“Forgive us, Captain known as James Tiberius Kirk,” said Leader Kran, his voice strong and smooth. He’d been the only Cromtician leader who had not questioned Spock. Only now choosing to speak. 

Jim still frowned at them. “I thought you people were suppose to not see the point in lying.”

Even Sulu was now frowning at the Cromticians. 

“We normally do not see the purpose of using such tactics,” admitted Marh. “But as Leaders of the Way, we have had the most contact with the representatives of the Federation Way.”

“And?” prompted Jim.

“We have been concerned that we have not seen any cubs among your people,” admitted Tilk. “Your reaction to our cubs and questioning of the treatment of the one known as Commander Spock was the most important reaction.”

Jim crossed his arms. “That was dangerous,” he told them after a moment. He didn’t even want to think about the sort of risks that such testing would put the children under. If the Cromticians ever met people that weren’t friendly… he didn’t want to think of it. Jim’s frown at the Cromticians grew deeper.

Marh’s antennae moved around in approval of his words. 

“We would not have brought the cubs with us if we did not have a measure of confidence in the character of people of the Federation Way,” she said. “Your own reaction was the final proof. The Federation Way is compatible with the Cromtician Way.”

Jim eyed her. “Which means?” he prompted.

“That we accept the proposal of the Federation to build a starbase in the outskirts of our solar system,” rumbled Surn.

“In addition we are now confident that the cub known as Commander Spock is cared for by a worthy individual,” added Tilk. 

Jim blinked at them. 

“Captain!” hissed Uhura, out of the corner of her mouth. 

_Oh, right. He was currently being diplomatic captain._

“We thank you for your acceptance. And I hope that this leads to closer relationship between our peoples,” said Jim, after a moment. He hadn’t exactly planned on having to give a speech of some sort when he agreed to come down with Spock. “And that we can learn from each other‘s Ways.”

Fortunately, those words hit the right tone with the Cromticians for their antennae waved with agreement and delight. 

Jim left the last of the details with Sulu and Uhura. Sulu, because he’d been coming down to the planet to help with the negotiations since day one and knew what needed to be signed and what needed to be hammered out. Uhura, so that no errors in translations would crop up, for the Federation _and_ for the Cromticians. 

Jim added his captain’s authorization code where it was needed before he snuck away to find Spock and Bones. 

It wasn’t that hard to find them. From the moment that he passed through the force field that kept the insects away from the inside of the building, Jim saw Bones sitting back on a rock with his eyes closed. It was the perfect place to catch sunlight, as a circular opening in the ceiling cast a beam of light right onto the rock.

Jim joined him. As he looked around Jim asked, “Where‘s Spock?” 

McCoy opened his eyes and quirked an eyebrow at him. 

“Will you stop hovering? The kid‘s fine,” grumbled McCoy, before closing his eyes again. “You‘re such a clingy mother.”

Jim’s death glare was lost on him since McCoy didn’t see it. So, Jim kicked McCoy’s nearest boot. Hard.

McCoy swore at him then glared right back.

“I‘m serious, Bones. He‘s only a couple of weeks away in age from having T‘Pring death come back to him. He shouldn‘t be out of sight in case he has another bad reaction.”

“As if the kid is going to be feeling a smidgeon of happiness without you there,” said McCoy, but he sighed and sat up. “Oh, he‘s over in that direction.” McCoy pointed off to the far side where bushes full of berries were clustered. “Those furry kids pretty much dragged him off with them to show him around.”

“Really?” asked Jim, peering in that direction and unable to help grinning at the mental picture of Spock - no doubt solemn and prim - being dragged off by a bunch of excited sentient balls of grey fluff. Too bad he hadn’t been around to see it. Jim had no doubt that Spock’s expression would have been hilarious, not matter how hard he would try to suppress it. 

“Yeah,” said McCoy, a smirk on his face.

Jim left Bones to return to his sunning, and followed the direction he’d pointed out to him. 

It took a few minutes before he heard Spock’s childish voice, somewhat muffled by the vegetation all around them. He peeked around one of those vined trees that Sulu had been raving about, the scent of the bark was cool mint and smooth under his palms. Jim breathed it in deeply before he sighed in relief as he saw Spock in perfect health. The kid was standing in front of the Cromtician children, who sat in a semi-circle around him as Spock lectured about xenobotany. 

Jim didn’t interrupt, but leaned against the tree and listened with interest as Spock went over the readings he’d gotten from the science tricorder and explained them to the cubs. 

Two of the children asked intelligent questions regarding photosynthesis. As they were the biggest of the four, Jim suspected that the other two cubs were just too young to understand what Spock was explaining, but they seemed to be too fascinated by Spock to care.

It made Jim wonder what Spock had been like as an instructor in Starfleet Academy. He’d never even met him before Spock brought forth those charges of cheating on the Kobayashi Maru on him. Jim kind of wished that he had known Spock before that, it wasn’t even the first time or even second time he’d thought it. Though, he wasn’t too certain how he would have taken him as his teacher. 

Jim suspected that they would have started clashing hard even then. Or maybe, they would have become friends that much sooner. _The probabilities for it would have been fifty-fifty,_ Jim thought in amusement. The possibility that they wouldn’t have caught each other’s attention in some way didn’t even cross his mind. Their personalities were too sharply contrasted for them to have just dismissed each other’s presence.

Jim must have made a noise because Spock’s sharp eyes found him even hidden under the foliage. 

“Jim!” Spock, called out. Excitement made his eyes glitter in the sunlight. 

And it struck Jim how much more vibrant Spock now looked. He swallowed hard at this indicator that whatever Spock was feeling for him, the kid had it bad. _Uhura really is going to kill me,_ Jim thought. He stifled a sigh and came into sight. 

The Cromtician cubs’ antennae went crazy with movement. 

“Hey, kids,” Jim greeted them, then he said to Spock, “don‘t let me interrupt your lesson.”

He sat down near the Cromtician kids and was instantly surrounded on all sides by them. The scent of their fur tickled his nose and Jim was amused as the same little Cromtician who’d hugged his leg climbed into his lap.

“Come on, Instructor Spock,” Jim said teasing, shifting the Cromtician kid into a more comfortable place on his thigh

But Spock was looking at the kid with narrowed eyes and a flat mouth on his small face. 

“Yarm,” Spock said sharply, “the captain is not a seat to be used for your comfort.”

“I don‘t mind,” Jim said amused at the near scowl on Spock’s face.

The small cub’s antennae flattened back but he didn’t move from his place. 

Spock pulled the tribble from his front pocket and held it out. “You can play with the tribble but only should you remove yourself from Jim.”

At once, the cub bounced out of Jim’s lap and over to Spock’s side. Holding up barely visible hands for the tribble. Spock delicately passed it him. The tribble purred as the cub began stroking its fur.

 _Passed over for a tribble_ , Jim thought. _Well, I’m glad Bones wasn’t around to see that._

Spock’s expression was much more calmer as the cubs settled down then resumed his lesson.


	15. Chapter 15

As fascinated as Jim was by seeing Spock in teaching mode he wasn’t exactly hearing anything new. The basic of xenobotany, which also covered a lot of regular botany as there were several similarities in the structure of plant cells, and energy cycles across quiet a few planets was what Spock was explaining to the Cromtician cubs.

Jim had already covered the topic of botany before he even set foot on in Starfleet Academy. Growing up on a farm gave him a lot of practical knowledge about it too. So Jim found himself studying the Cromticians children around him. While scans of various sorts had been run on the alien species before, Jim had never sat down and studied them in person. He certainly hadn’t expected that he’d be practically crawling with the cubs when he decided to come down to the planet with Spock. 

It was a rather pleasant surprise. 

He was pretty grateful. Usually the surprises that away teams faces were ambushes or the natives becoming insulted by a member of the team scratching their nose or tugging on an ear or something that was so unexpected and dangerous that Jim lost one of his crew. 

_I could get used to easy missions like this… well, once in a while. At least when I‘m recovering from nearly becoming a man-sized shish-ka-bob._ Jim thought in amusement. He noted that the younger and therefore smaller cubs, like Yarm - who was still playing with the tribble - were actually a darker shade of grey when compared to the older cubs. Jim guess that this meant that their fur kept getting paler as they grew older until the fur turned the same shade of cream white as those of the adults.

“It‘s possible for animals to also be capable of photosynthesis?” asked a cub that Jim thought was named Sotl. 

“Yes, Sotl,” said Spock. “There are organisms that are not plants that can photosynthesize. They are called photoautotrophs. Many varied photoautotrophs have been recorded by Federation scientists in various planets.”

“So this is where you have all vanished to,” said a feminine voice as Spock paused.

Jim and the cubs turned to see Marh looking at them, her antennae waving in amusement. 

“Come, my children,” she continued. “We have scheduled to join the administrators of the causeways.”

All the children’s antennae flattened back. Clearly not happy about the idea. 

The smallest cub, Yarm sighed and came up to Jim to hand him the tribble. He took it from the cub whose outer two antennae was drooping. 

“Don‘t worry, little one,” said Jim, unable to resist saying something. “We‘ll be on the planet for the rest of the day. As soon as you‘re done you can come and find us again… if it‘s alright with your mother.”

Jim inclined his head towards Marh. Her reaction was her antennae moving in amusement and the cubs bounced all around him in excitement. 

“We will be with the administrators for several hours,” said Marh. “Then we will break for the midday meal. You are welcome to join the entire leadership council at our table, Captain known as James Tiberius Kirk as well as the rest of your people. 

“We would be most grateful to attend the meal,” said Jim. “After exploring the city, we’ll be starving.”

All the Cromticians’ antennae twisted in puzzlement. 

“The captain is speaking in hyperbole,” explained Spock. “It is a regrettable tendency in humans.”

Jim rolled his eyes.

Spock arched an eyebrow at him and Jim just grinned back. The corner’s of Spock’s small mouth twitched up before flattening again.

Marh bowed, turned and disappeared as she returned to the stone path. The cubs ran after her. 

Jim stood up and wiped the bits of debris from his pants. 

“We have permission to explore the city?” asked Spock, as he walked close to Jim. 

Jim noted with a grin that a small yellow flower had managed to fall onto Spock’s hair at some point and was resting so lightly that the kid hadn’t noticed. Jim didn’t tell him about it. Instead, he passed on the still purring tribble to Spock. He promptly returned it to its place in his front pocket.

“Yeah,” Jim answered Spock. “I asked earlier. The leadership says that the city is open to non-Cromticians. I figured we could look around. You can run more of those scans you wanted. And we can stop by and see how far Lieutenant Keenser is getting with the aging machine. Kret mentioned that they’re at the main temple of Engineering. It’s within walking distance of here.”

“It would be favorable to my results to take further scans,” said Spock. “This garden was carefully chosen and its artificial ecosystem is not sufficiently developed in order to be a true mimic of the planet‘s natural environment.”

“Sounds good,” said Jim, retracing his steps that led him off the path and to Spock. The kid followed behind him. Jim pushed past the mint smelling tree. As he cleared the leaves and vines Jim saw that Bones wasn’t on his rock anymore but rather he was standing up with Uhura and Sulu waiting for Jim and Spock to return.

“Captain!” scolded Uhura, as soon as she saw him. “The Cromtician leaders were wondering where you‘d gone off to.”

“You guys didn‘t exactly need me there to dot the ‘i’s and cross the ‘t’s,” said Jim, with a grin. 

Uhura rolled her eyes while McCoy shook his head in exasperation. Sulu grinned right Jim. 

“You‘re right, Captain,” agreed Sulu. “The treaty with the Cromticians is finalized. I‘ve already sent it up the Enterprise.”

“The Communications Department is encrypting it and will send it along the standard Starfleet channels at 1200 with the rest of the reports generated in the last twenty-four hours,” added Uhura.

“Good,” said Jim. 

“I am curious, why does Starfleet want to establish a base in this system?” asked Spock. “We are deep in Federation space but the need for the starbase must be high for Starfleet to send the Enterprise to negotiate for it.”

Jim nodded. “I know. It seems odd, but the Cromtician system is pretty close to the Tholians. In fact, it is the most populated planet in the Federation to be so near to them. The purpose of setting up base here is two-fold. To maintain observations on the Tholians and to provide protection for this sector of space.”

“Most of nearby systems don‘t have sentient species,” said Sulu. “So, there‘s less of a need to provide protection to them should there be an attack. But the Cromtician system is smack dab in the middle of five other star systems with sentient life.”

“So, it is most logical to set up a base in a location that would be equidistant to all of those star systems,” said Spock, thoughtfully.

“You were the one that figured they were best system to use, Mr. Spock,” said Sulu.

“Yeah,” agreed Uhura softly, the memory of something made her eyes distant but deeply pained. Yet she didn’t look at Spock as she talked and instead maintained her face averted, as if keeping from looking at the kid would make the lack of adult Spock hurt less.

Jim wondered if she had been at Spock’s side when he’d figured out the Cromtician system would be the best one. Or was it some other memory about Spock - grown Spock - that had triggered that look in her eyes.

Spock said solemnly, “I see.”

McCoy was observing their expressions and shot Jim a look when he came to Uhura’s face. He arched an eyebrow at him and Jim silently nodded at him. McCoy instantly caught his meaning and put a hand on Spock’s slim shoulder. 

“Come on, kid, why don’t you show Sulu those scans you ran before we leave the garden,” said McCoy. 

Sulu’s eyes lit up. “That would be great! I‘m scheduled to be back on the ship soon but I‘d love to see what you have found out.”

Spock reluctantly let himself be pulled away with only a single backwards glance at Jim. 

“Doctor McCoy isn‘t exactly being subtle,” said Uhura with a sardonic look at Jim. 

Jim chuckled, “Yeah, but he‘s a good friend.”

“So, why did he want us to be alone to talk?”

Jim swallowed hard and rubbed the back of his head. “Well… you see.. it‘s about Spock.”

Uhura stiffened. “If you are going to try to convince me to-”

“No,” said Jim quickly. “I‘m not going to push you on that.” The last thing that Jim wanted was for Spock to think that Uhura didn’t like him when in reality her emotions for him were the complete opposite of dislike simply because she wasn‘t happy with him being turned into a child and couldn‘t stand to spend so much time with him. “It‘s something else.”

Jim shuffled his feet and tilted his head back to catch the rays of the Cromticians sun on his face. Even with the high heat and humidity of the planet’s environment the sun felt good on his skin. A real sun, after so many weeks of the artificial light of the Enterprise made the beam of light feel like energy was being poured into his body. _No wonder Bones kept sunning himself on the rock._

“To quote Bones: he‘s got a crush on me the size of the Enterprise,” Jim blurted out. 

Uhura’s lovely brown eyes grew wide. “McCoy?”

Surprised, Jim laughed out loud. “No, not Bones.”

“Spock?” guessed Uhura, incredulously. “Spock has got a crush on _you?_ You of all people.” Her mouth curved up.

Jim crossed him arms. “Ah, come on. It‘s not that crazy of a possibility.” Jim tried not to pout as Uhura’s laughter rang loud and clear. He did feel rather relieved by her reaction. At least she wasn’t punching him or scratching his eyes out with her nails. Those things were deadly weapons in their own right.

“I happen to be considered the most eligible starship captain in the Federation,” continued Jim, sulkily. “I still get fan letters from grateful men and women for saving the Earth. I get marriage proposals and offers to carry my babies. All the time.”

Uhura just laughed harder. 

Jim sat down on the rock that Bones had been using earlier and waited for her to laugh herself out. It took several more minutes before Uhura was wiping tears from her eyes with one hand while the other was pressed to the muscles of her abdomen. 

“Oh, I haven‘t laughed like that in years,” she admitted, with a smile. Her eyes were sparkling with lingering delight.

“Want to fill me in on the joke?” asked Jim, his voice dry.

Uhura sat down on the rock next to him, stretching out her long legs in front of her. Jim absently admired their curves before raising his eyebrows at her. 

“Spock and I…” she said slowly. “Our relationship is complicated at the moment.”

“Oh?” asked Jim, neutrally. 

She gave him a wan smile. “Did you know that I wanted to join Starfleet since I was a little girl?”

Jim shook his head. 

“When my gift for learning languages was discovered I was compared to the famous Hoshi Sato,” said Uhura quietly. “So, I learned about her. I so amazed at what she’d accomplished in her life that she became my role model. I wanted to be her. Learn every language possible, not just human languages or those that belong to the Federation members. I wanted to _know_ them in way that even the universal translator can‘t convey.”

She exhaled slowly. “I wanted to serve on a starship, on the Enterprise.” She smiled. “Of course, when I decided this as a girl there was no starships that held that name. Not yet. When I learned that a new starship was going to be commissioned with the name Enterprise, I joined Starfleet the next day.”

Jim watched her and the faraway look in her eyes. 

“I was going to be the best - top of my class to get the chance to serve on her,” said Uhura.

“And you are,” said Jim, confused as to why Uhura felt that she needed to share this personal part of herself with him. She’d never had done so before. 

“I want you to understand, Jim,” she said intently. “I had thought that I would be a lieutenant for a few years before I was promoted and then I‘d be a bridge officer, because I was going to be the best.”

“And you are best,” interrupted Jim. “I‘ve never met anyone who can pick up alien languages as quickly as you can.”

“I thought that it would take me years to work my way up to bridge officer. I had it all planned out,” she continued, ignoring his interruption. “I didn‘t think that my relationship with Spock would be a problem since he wasn‘t my immediate superior. I thought that we could still be together even with him as the first officer and I was just a lowly lieutenant because I‘d be answering to my department head and he would be responding to Spock and Captain Pike. So, I thought that there wouldn‘t be a problem, not from Spock and not from me.”

“What are you talking about, I haven’t noticed any problem,” said Jim, with a frown. 

Uhura sighed, “You weren‘t on the bridge when I left my station because I was so concerned for him that I wasn‘t thinking about my duty. I didn’t think that I needed to remain at my post, I just thought about him and how he had to be dealing with the loss of Vulcan,” she said softly. She smiled a crooked, self-deprecating smile. “I was reprimanded for it later.”

“I don‘t remember reading about any such reprimand in your record,” he said, with a frown.

“You wouldn‘t have, the Admirals were kind enough to do it off-record.”

“Well, they should have, we had just saved the planet,” Jim pointed out.

“That‘s probably one of the reasons, the other being that we‘re all so young that they were more surprised that we didn’t make more mistakes,” explained Uhura. “I agreed with them, I should never ever have left my duty station like that.”

“You were caring for Spock,” said Jim, gently. 

“Yes, and I let my feelings for him get in the way of my duty,” said Uhura, flatly. “What if I had been needed at my station at that moment when I’d left? What if a message from Starfleet had come through? What if we’d caught some lingering Romulan message from the Narada? Even Spock remembered to transfer to conn to another officer before he left the bridge. I didn‘t even think of that.”

“But nothing happened,” said Jim. “You didn‘t miss anything.”

“No, but I wasn’t there to hear it if it had been,” said Uhura, crossing her arms. “So, I took time to think about it. After the Admirals had finished discussing my performance with me. And I came to the conclusion that my relationship with Spock was interfering with my duty.”

“You ended it with him,” guessed Jim, staring her in shock. 

“Not exactly, I asked him if we could slow it down,” said Uhura, with a sigh. “I did say it was complicated.”

Jim’s frown grew deeper. “Nyota, I don’t want to tell you what to do, but how does that make any sense? You still care for him, right?”

“Yeah,” she said, wistfully. “I still do. But no matter how much I care for Spock, I also care about my career. Being Starfleet officer and serving on the Enterprise is my dream, I don‘t want anything to risk it, even for a man as amazing as Spock.”

Jim rubbed his mouth, uncertain about what he’d say in response to this. He hadn’t had any inkling that Spock and Uhura’s relationship had cooled off at all in the past months. But then, they’d never exactly been blatant about the status of their relationship. Jim probably wouldn’t even have known the depth of it if he hadn’t been witness to their kiss on the transporter all those months ago. 

Hell, if anyone had bothered to ask him what he’d thought of Uhura and Spock being together he would have told them that they were complete professionals, at least on duty. They did spend a lot of time together off duty but he had never seen a hint of it getting in the way. 

“We‘ve been more friends than lovers in the past six months,” explained Uhura, when Jim asked.

“Oh, you could explain in more detail what you mean by that,” said Jim, unable to resist. 

Uhura narrowed her eyes at him and hit him on the arm. 

“Ow!” yelped Jim, and rubbed the spot. “That‘s hitting a superior officer!”

Uhura sniffed, but to Jim’s delight at least she no longer looked so distraught. 

“So, why did me telling you about Spock’s crush on me set you off like that?” asked Jim. 

The corner of Uhura’s mouth twitched up in amusement.

“I was just remembering something I‘d told Spock only a few weeks ago,” said Uhura. “We were spending an evening together, Spock told me that he‘d be spending the next night with you playing chess. I teased him about it, telling him that he was dating you more than he was dating me,” said Uhura.

Jim flushed at the idea. 

In the last month, before the mission that got Jim speared, Spock and he had been spending quite a lot of time together. They had several chess matches, they’d gone over reports from Starfleet, and those generated on the ship. Essentially, they’d begun spending more time with each other than they’d had in previous months. Enough time, it seemed, that their friends were teasing them about it. Spock hadn’t been the only one that had that pointed out to him. Bones had enjoyed making Jim sputter when he’d pointed it out to him during breakfast at just the right moment that Jim had choked on his coffee. 

Hot coffee coming out of his nose is still one of the most painful things he’s ever felt. And been through a lot of fights that had _broken_ that nose.

“How did Spock react?” asked Jim, incredibly curious to know and kind of wishing he’d been a fly on that wall.

Uhura’s mouth widened into a grin. “He said, and I quote: ‘Such a relationship between the captain and myself would be most illogical’.”

Jim snorted and quirked the corner of his mouth in bemusement at the irony of Spock saying such a thing considering the current circumstances. “I don‘t think he‘d say that now,” he said, wryly.

“I guess, all he needed was to spend time with you without his previous ideas about you getting in the way,” said Uhura with a smile. 

Jim shook his head and shot her an amazed look. “Why aren‘t you taking my head off? I thought you were going to kill me for sure.”

She arched an eyebrow at him, in a move that reminded Jim more of Spock than anything else. 

“I love Spock, more as a friend than a lover,” she said. “And I know he feels that same way for me. Maybe, we could have become more if I hadn‘t picked my career over what we could’ve been. I don‘t believe that he would ever stop caring for me. Once his memories are back those feelings will also return. I‘m not worried about losing him in my life. No matter how badly he‘s currently fallen for you.”

Jim gave her a crooked smile. “Well, I‘m just glad that you aren‘t going to mount my head on your wall.”

Uhura wrinkled her nose as she stood up from the rock. “Of course not, you‘d clash with the décor.”

Jim burst out laughing and stood up to follow her as they went down the path that Spock, McCoy and Sulu had gone down.

“You know, considering how your reacted when you first saw that Spock had been changed into a kid,” said Jim, “I thought that you were deeply in love with him.”

“He‘ s my best friend,” said Uhura. “Wouldn’t you react badly if something happened to Doctor McCoy?”

“Yeah,” agreed Jim, after a moment. If something ever happened to Bones that would make him think that he’d never get him back, Jim knew that he’d freak out. Maybe not right away, maybe not in tears like Uhura had done. He’d be more inclined to get drunk and start the sort of bar fight that would end with him in the hospital but he’d definitely wouldn’t take it well. 

The very idea made him shudder. Bones had been his touchstone for so many of these last few years that he didn’t want to think of where he’d be without him. At worst, he'd be dead... at best... Jim would be miserable, lashing out and dragging everyone down with him. And it was that loss that Uhura had been hit with when she’d seen little five-year old Spock in the medical bay.

“You know, I would've never told you and Spock to split apart had you continued dating,” said Jim, feeling that he needed to say this.

“I know,” said Uhura. “You would've said something before you accepted me as your bridge communications officer all those months ago when you were confirmed as the captain. You‘re not exactly shy about stating your opinion.”

Jim grinned at that. 

“I made my choice, and I don’t regret it,” continued Uhura. “Well, not much. Spock is one gorgeous guy.”

“Yeah, one of a kind,” agreed Jim, with a teasing grin. “Literally.”

Uhura laughed and rolled her eyes at once just as they caught up to the spot where Sulu, McCoy and Spock were waiting for them. They were standing before a large door, circular again, that spanned high into the ceiling. 

“I see you‘re in one piece,” noted McCoy, frowning at Jim.

Jim glared at him. “Well, don‘t sound so disappointed, Bones.”

“Well, I brought down all these supplies I haven‘t had to use yet,” said McCoy, patting the med-kit that was slung over his shoulder. “I wanted to test a new dermal generator that‘s come from the medical labs. It should be twice as fast as the previous one. And here you are with not a scratch on you!”

“Not your lab rat!” said Jim, firmly.

Sulu and Spock gave them a puzzled look. Uhura ignored them. 

“Spock,” she said softly. 

Now, Jim looked at her in interest. This was the first time that he’d seen her address Spock since he’d been changed. Even Bones stopped grumbling about how he wasn’t a medical mule to carry equipment and listened.

“I‘m Nyota Uhura,” she continued. “You and I are good friends.”

Spock looked at her in interest and shot Jim an inquiring look. Jim nodded in respond.

“She‘s known you longer than I have, Spock,” said Jim. “She can answer any questions you have about your life that I wouldn’t know.”

“I do not currently have any questions,” said Spock, politely to Uhura.

She titled her head and watched him back equally as solemn. “Very well.”

Then her mouth twitched up and she plucked the small flower that had stayed on Spock’s hair this entire time off him. 

McCoy made a disappointed noise, while Sulu looked innocently off into the garden. 

Spock eyed the flower, shooting a narrow-eyed look at McCoy and Sulu before he ran a hand through his hair to check for more. 

Jim suppressed a laugh. “Don‘t worry Spock, that‘s the only one.”

Spock nodded, and took a step closer to Jim so that he stood at his side.

Sulu pressed a hand to the middle of the circular door and it split apart down the middle, opening like the doors on the Enterprise. Fortunately, it was slightly cooler outside of the garden. A gentle wind ruffled their hair as they stepped onto pathway. They all stopped and stared at the sight before them.

“Now, that‘s a view,” said McCoy, in delight.

“Very aesthetically pleasing,” agreed Spock, his eyes a little wide.

The garden, and it’s attached government building were built a top a high hill that overlooked the Cromtician city of Tretot. Below them, the entire city sprawled. Circular buildings - none higher then five stories seemed to be rising from the floor of a forest, only visible through the dense greenery by the vivid colors that they were painted. 

“They really do have a thing for circles and spheres don‘t they,” observed Jim. 

“Yeah,” said McCoy. “I haven‘t figured out why.”

“It‘s tied to their philosophy of life,” explained Sulu. 

Spock tilted his head up to Sulu in interest. “Please elaborate.”

“I‘m no xeno-culturalist,” said Sulu. “But they think that circles show up in nature for a reason. That they are an indication of the Way of the universe.”

“Circles are traditionally tied to life cycles in several cultures including a lot of human ones,” said Jim. 

“And then there’s stellar bodies such as stars, and planets,” added Sulu.

“And therefore they chose to represent circles and spheres in their architecture,” said Spock, thoughtfully. “Fascinating.”

McCoy elbowed his side - the non-wounded side thank you, Bones - at that.

Jim elbowed him right back before he said. “You‘ve been here the longest Sulu, why don‘t you give us a tour of the place on the way to Keenser‘s location.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” agreed Sulu, amiably. “The Lieutenant isn‘t too far away. The Temples of the various Ways are centered around the same area of the city including the main Temple of Engineering.” He set off down the path and the rest of them followed after him.

The leadership council building had no gates, so Jim had no clue when they passed from government property and into the rest of the city. For all that Jim knew Cromticians didn’t even divide land like that. 

Spock had his tricorder out and running scans on everything that they passed. Though, this slowed down their progress along the streets by a lot, Sulu happily filled up their time by talking about everything he’d learned on the Cromtician city and it’s inhabitants.

Having never had a chance to set foot on the planet before today, Jim was the most interested in the information though he was also distracted by watching Spock’s expression. 

There was an almost content expression on his small face. 

So, Jim was the first to notice when Spock stopped walking and stared blankly off into space. Uhura was the second one to see something was wrong.

“Spock? What‘s wrong?” asked Jim. 

McCoy turned back and frowned as he pulled out his medical tricorder. 

Spock blinked rapidly and turned a pale face to Jim. The look in his eyes held an emotion that looked an awful lot like horror. It made Jim freeze before he gripped Jim by the shoulder.

“My memories of T‘Pring demise have returned,” explained Spock, flatly.

Jim mentally swore and tightened his hand on Spock’s shoulder. 

McCoy firmly shoved him out of his way. “Damn it, Jim. Let me scan him! You need to get out of my way!”

Sulu was watching all this with a serious expression on his face.

Jim stepped back reluctantly. 

“T‘Pring?” asked Uhura, shooting Spock then Jim a curious look. “That‘s a female Vulcan name.”

Jim froze, surprised by Uhura’s lack of knowledge about a girl that Spock been mind-linked to and would have married had she survived to adulthood.

“Err,” Jim said stupidly. _How in the hell am I going to explain this?_

Spock looked too distracted by whatever memories were just revealed to him and didn’t even glance at Uhura’s direction. 

She stared at Jim intently and he gave up trying to keep the knowledge from her. It wasn‘t like he didn‘t know that Spock trusted her. “She was the girl that he was mind-linked to at the age of seven.”

“His betrothed,” said Uhura, in understanding. And Jim remembered that she had a greater knowledge of Vulcan culture than he did, and not just because she could speak all the dialects of Vulcan.

“Yeah,” said Jim. 

“Jim,” gasped Spock and Jim jumped to his side. Spock reached out a small hand and grabbed at Jim’s hand. “My father had informed me that she had been killed during her kahs-wan.” Spock’s hand tightened to bruising strength but Jim didn’t care. “I had not expected her death to have been so violent.”

“What happened?” asked Jim, gently. 

“She went on her kahs-wan earlier than she had been scheduled to do so. She was killed by a le-matya,” said Spock. “She thought that she had to prove herself to be a true Vulcan. That her being bonded to me - a half-human - diminished her status as a full-blooded Vulcan.”

“What?!” said McCoy, looking up form his medical tricorder. “That makes no sense.”

“What‘s a kahs-wan?” asked Sulu of Uhura. She murmured back that it was a Vulcan rite of passage, one where they spent ten days in the desert without bringing in food or water and then had to survive it.

“Her logic was clear, Doctor McCoy,” denied Spock. 

“No,” said Jim, firmly. “She was wrong, Spock. No one can be less of who they are because of who they know.”

“I agree with the captain, Mr. Spock,” Sulu broke in. “Those are cultural pressures that are not at all based on a quantitative measure.”

“We certainly don‘t feel that way,” added Jim. 

The hiss of McCoy hitting Spock with a hypospray was his only answer before Spock slowly nodded. 

“Bones, how is he?” asked Jim. 

“Not too bad, at least compared to how he reacted before,” answered McCoy. “His neurotransmitter levels are still within an acceptable range.”

“So, what was the shot for?” asked Jim. “Or are you just sticking him for fun?”

Spock was actually distracted from his memories by that, and he raised an eyebrow at McCoy. It lacked its cool punch with Spock still looking so pale.

“It’s just a booster that M‘Benga put together for him,” answered McCoy.

“Should he return to the ship?” asked Uhura, biting her lower lip in worry.

Spock stiffened. “I do not need to return to the Enterprise. I am in sufficient health.”

Jim cocked his head at McCoy to verify this. Bones reluctantly nodded. 

“He can stay, Jim,” said McCoy. “I would like to run scans on him as soon as we get back the ship but for know he‘s fine.” 

Jim noted that Bones didn’t exactly should happy about it. 

“We‘ll keep an eye on him,” agreed Jim.


	16. Chapter 16

“Good, because I can still get him up to the ship at any time if I so much as think that he‘s getting his brain fried,” grumbled McCoy. 

Jim just nodded, silently agreeing with Bones’ assessment. If he thought that Spock needed to be taken up to the ship then Jim would be the first one calling up the transporter technician on his communicator. 

Spock looked too distracted by the revealed memories to protest this plan. This actually made Jim more concerned than he’d been before. The kid normally would have said something about Bones’ comment. That he hadn’t made Jim wonder at the content of those revealed memories and the true depth of the disdain that Spock had faced while growing up half-human. So Jim carefully tried to send his concern through to Spock. He was relieved when this made Spock blinked rapidly as he pulled himself out of his thoughts and looked up into Jim’s eyes.

“I‘m glad that you are who you are, Spock,” said Jim sincerely. “I wouldn’t change that you are half-human or half-Vulcan for anything. I want you to hold onto that, not matter what else you remember, okay?”

Everyone else murmured their agreements. Even Bones although he looked almost embarrassed at having to admit this sentiment aloud, Jim noted with amusement. He would certainly remind Bones of it whenever he and Spock started one their long running arguments again.

Spock nodded slowly.

Yet Jim could see that he wasn’t convinced and he still looked too pale for Jim’s own peace of mind. 

_Damn it. Even for a Vulcan when you hear nonsense like that from too many people for too long you can’t help but start accepting it as truth. Even if you‘ve got family who tell you otherwise,_ Jim thought and had to struggle keep his own anger in check to prevent it from spilling over into Spock. It made his fist itch to punch someone, anyone who’d ever added to the doubt that Spock felt that he was worth less as a person because of his humanity, because of his unique position as a hybrid. It made him ache with sympathy - not pity! - because of how often he’d heard how he was never going to be any good for anything but getting drunk off his ass and getting kicked around. At the very least, he’d only started hearing that crap after he’d hit adulthood. Jim couldn’t begin to wrap his brain around how it would have affected him if he’d started hearing it as young as Spock had.

Abruptly, Jim wondered how Spock - the much older future version of a timeline that could have been without Nero’s influence - had dealt with it. He certainly was more relaxed in his own skin than even Jim’s own first officer had even been. Jim made mental note to send him message asking him that very thing when they got back to the Enterprise. 

Somehow, he doubted that Sarek would have that knowledge. If he’d had then Spock would have never developed that doubt in the first place. No, Jim would have to ask the only other being in this universe that had walked the path of being the first Vulcan-human hybrid, and get whatever advice he could to help this much smaller and surprisingly emotionally vulnerable Spock.

Something of Jim’s determination and the complex thoughts that had triggered it must have seeped through to Spock, because the boy was raising an eyebrow at Jim. A silent query to the direction of his thoughts. 

Jim smiled at him but kept his mouth shut.

“So, exactly how are your memories coming back to you, Spock?” asked Uhura, gently and successfully interrupting their silent communication.

 _Surprising for a communications officer,_ Jim thought, amused.

Spock blinked again and turned his face towards her. His grip on Jim’s hand didn’t loosen any.

“It is not as if I am gaining those memories suddenly so much as they are available to me again,” said Spock, his small brows furrowing. “I had not been aware that they were not available to me until their reemergence.”

“Like, you can‘t miss something that you don‘t even remember having in the first place,” said Sulu, thoughtfully. 

Spock nodded, “That is accurate.”

“And the age jumps lets you get access to those memories without overlaying the newer ones?” said McCoy, with interest. 

Spock had mentioned before the he didn’t lose his new memories when the old ones came back but he didn’t actually explain _how_ that worked so Jim listened carefully.

“Yes,” said Spock without elaboration.

Jim nearly laughed.

“Which means that you should retain all your new memories when you get back to your normal age,” concluded McCoy. “Huh.”

Jim raised his eyebrows at him. 

McCoy shrugged, “I had been wondering how he was recovering his memories. The neural scans I ran on his Vulcan brain hadn‘t shown any differences compared to how it had been before, only that he couldn‘t access them for some reason.”

“Which means what? For those of us without medical degrees,” asked Jim. He silently urged everyone to start walking because nearby Cromticians were looking over at them, their antennae twisting in interest. Spock didn’t let him go, but walked along side him.

Jim absently considered pulling his hand free, the revelation of how Vulcans kissed still in his mind, but calm in Spock’s expression - a calm that held only the faintest of lingering strain - changed his mind. If the kid got some measure of comfort out of his touch then he was damned if he was going to take that away from him. His own discomfort could take a backseat. He’d deal with it later.

“Vulcan brains are complicated things,” said McCoy, in a lecturing tone of voice. The kind he used when teaching his staff or when making sure that Jim followed his doctor’s orders to the letter. It was not a tone that Jim was happy to hear.

Jim groaned. McCoy’s mouth quirked up.

“The older a Vulcan gets, the more their brains change, becoming more complex as memories are added, in a way that is similar to human. Yet, the level of organization in their memories is higher, a lot higher. It is structured to allow for greater recall and it is one the reasons that they can learn vast amounts of data,” continued McCoy. “And Spock‘s? Were the same at five years old as they were at ten and as they were last time I scanned him a week ago. He still had all that ‘data’ in his head that he had as an adult.” He finished with a satisfied tone, “And now I know why.”

“Congratulations,” Jim said dryly. 

McCoy snorted and glared. 

“So, _all_ of Spock‘s memories will came back?” asked Uhura.

“I don‘t see why not,” said McCoy. “If anything I was worried that he wouldn’t keep his new memories when he finished age-jumping.”

Uhura looked relieved, tension loosening from her shoulders. Her smile grew wide and brilliant. 

“You had a reason to suspect that I would not retain my memories?” asked Spock, alarm rising his voice up by an octave. 

Jim remembered his fears on the subject and squeezed Spock’s hand in reassurance. 

“Well, you‘re current condition isn‘t exactly normal,” said McCoy, his voice lower and soothing as he explained. “So, there was a good chance that those new memories would be overwritten by your normal memories, the ones that you actually experienced at the age that you jump to. But it looks like the Cromticians figured out a way to make sure those memories weren‘t lost.”

“They did call the effect of the Cub Sphere, a gift,” Jim pointed out. “It wouldn‘t be much of a gift if you didn‘t remember it.”

“Hm,” said McCoy. “Good point.”

Jim grinned, and the grip that Spock had on his hand became more gentle. 

“Captain,” said Sulu, pointing to a blue painted building. Letters in the Cromtician alphabet streaked down sides of it. It was a good half a mile away. Only visible because of the vivid color through the tall trees. “That‘s the Temple of Engineering.”

Jim nodded and arched his eyebrows at Spock. “So you still want to run more scans before we get there?”

Spock considered this question then nodded. “I would be most appreciative of such an opportunity yet I have no preference as to when this will occur.”

Jim nodded. He asked, “Hey, Sulu, Is there a park of some sort around here?”

Sulu considered this. “I don‘t think so Captain. The Cromticians are big on gardens and their homes have large plots of land attached to them. But I haven’t seen a public park in their own city. There are several such reserves for wild life outside of it. The Commander can run his scans there if he’d like.”

Before Spock could say anything about this plan the paved ground beneath their feet began shaking. 

“What the hell!” yelped McCoy as he staggered. 

“It‘s an earthquake!” shouted Sulu.

McCoy swore. Loudly. 

The trees and shrubbery lining the walkway shuddered, and plant debris filled the air. Leaves filled the air like falling snow in a blizzard. The occasional flower and insects bringing flashes of color among all the green.

Jim instantly pulled Spock close, tucking the kid against his body as he hunched over him. Spock only reaction was to let go of Jim’s hand in order to reach for the tricorder and start running scans. It made Jim grin even as he looked around them with a guarded eye on their shaking surroundings.

Both Uhura and Sulu crouched down to lower their center of gravity to keep from getting knocked off their feet. They also took the precaution of not remaining under any trees and also staying alert to any approaching danger, from below or above. A rather surprisingly violent roll made McCoy stagger before he finally gave up standing and sat on the ground. Jim noted with concern that his face was white with strain, and he reached out with a hand to clasp Bones’ knee. Bones’ shot him a grateful look and Jim smiled at him.

Jim looked around in greater concern as the shaking continued and noted that the passing Cromticians were standing still. Those with children were imitating Jim, curling around their cubs to provide protection. 

Then it struck Jim as odd that the circular buildings didn’t move one bit. In fact, Jim surprise to see that they seemed to be growing. Then Jim realized it wasn’t so much as the buildings were getting taller as they were lifting up into the air. Propelled off the ground by some hidden propulsion system that sent all those round buildings straight into the air and off the shaking ground. 

McCoy’s low cursing abruptly stopped as he took in the astonishing sight. 

“Well, I’ll be, it’s like a bunch of balloons were let loose,” said McCoy in awed delight.

Jim agreed. So he gently urged Spock to look up into the sky and ignore the readings he was taking by using his fingers to press under the boy’s chin to tilt his gaze up.

The sky was now full of floating spherical buildings that were painted in a riot of rainbow colors. It was such a striking sight that none of them cared to note that the ground had the earthquake had finally stopped.

“That‘s amazing,” said Uhura, her dark eyes wide and shining. 

Sulu was grinning at the sky too.

“Fascinating,” said Spock, staring up as well. “I suspect that each building is equipped with sensors to detect seismologic readings to trigger the-”

“Just enjoy the sight, Spock!” said McCoy, cutting him off. “Analyze later!”

Spock raised an eyebrow at that but McCoy was too busy staring at the sky to react to it.

“Reminds me of a sky full of hot air balloons like those at a country fair,” said Jim softly. “Only a hellavu lot more impressive.” The sheer size of the building above them made their graceful movements to avoid colliding with their neighbors all the more amazing as it was done so silently. Their ponderous weight as they floated along their heads made Jim’s breath catch.

They continued watching until all the floating buildings gently drifted came back down to the ground. Settling back into their foundations with hisses of hydraulics and hums of hidden machinery. 

“That is not something you see everyday,” said McCoy, stilling looking at the buildings. “It almost makes the earthquake worth it.” Then his expression soured. “Almost.”

Sulu laughed, “That wasn‘t that bad, Doctor. Barely a four by the old Richter scale they still use at home. Try growing up in California. You’re bound to experience a good shake enough to rattle your bones at least once before you’re eighteen.”

“No thank you, you can keep your earthquakes,” said McCoy with disgust. “I always thought that Californians were crazy to live in a place ready to fall into the ocean at any moment.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and what does it say about you that you still went to Starfleet Academy which is in San Francisco,” he pointed out.

“Well, that‘s different,” grumped McCoy.

Uhura hid a smile behind a hand.

Jim smirked at him but also didn’t push this line of teasing. It would just open up the reason that Bones had joined Starfleet in the first place: his divorce. And he didn’t actually want to kill Bones’ good humor. For all his grumbling McCoy was having a good time. Otherwise he would be downright caustic in his words opposed to just being mildly abrasive. _Well, that’s Bones for you,_ Jim thought. _He’s only truly happy when he’s got something to complain about._

“Captain, do you want to go to the temple now?” asked Sulu. 

Jim considered Spock who was back to being riveted to the screen of the tricorder, no doubt fascinated by the data the scanners had picked up during the quake. 

“Well, since we‘re here we might as well as stop in and see how Lieutenant Keenser is doing before we do anything else,” Jim finally decided. 

“Then this way, Captain,” said Sulu and the group followed him to the wide large circular doors of the temple. He opened it just like he had the door in the garden. Then he led them past a series of doors with red Cromtician letters before he stopped in front of one that was pretty indistinguishable from the previous ones. “This is one of their research labs. High Priest-Engineer Kret told us that we could have full use of it and their resources.”

The door opened and they walked in to see the previous away team of science officers working furiously over a bank of computers. Everyone was so immersed in their work that they didn’t bother to glance up to see who the new arrivals were. 

Jim was pleased to see that among the Starfleet officers there were also Cromticians working side-by-side with them. That was a good sign for the future relationship between Cromticians and the Federation. He’d have to remember this little detail when he submitted his own report about the mission to Starfleet Command.

He looked around and spotted Keenser crouching atop a round table even though there were chairs around it. Jim bit back a grin. He’d really thought that a lot of Keenser’s habit of climbing up on stuff was just his way of messing with Scotty. But it seemed like it was just his habit.

Jim walked over and noted that Keenser was staring down at a large piece of paper, yellowed with age and curling at the edges. His expression was intent and his black eyes were unblinking as he stared down at the fading lines of circuitry in the schematic.

“Lieutenant Keenser,” said Jim, cheerfully. “What‘s up?”

McCoy snorted at his side. Uhura rolled her eyes and Sulu stifled a chuckle.

Jim ignored their reactions.

“Captain! I am up,” said Keenser, with a tilt of his head that was nearly bird-like. He didn’t bother to get off the table while talking.

Jim grinned, “I can see that, Lieutenant. How about a report on the progress of the reversal machine to Spock‘s de-aging?”

Spock finally looked up from the tricorder and looked at Keenser. His mouth was a flat line. 

Jim looked at him but couldn’t read whatever emotions were rolling around beneath the surface of that stoic Vulcan mask. Though he had a fairly good idea of what was going on so Jim gave a slight smile before turning back to Keenser.

Keenser launched into an immediate synopsis of his time down on the planet. 

A lot of it was information that Jim had read about in previous reports but he was interested to hear it from Keenser’s own mouth. The lieutenant explained that they reason that they were delayed came as much from the information they got from the schematics as much as that which they had a hard time translating. 

The way that Jim understood it, after weeding out a lot of the engineering parlance was that the tools to make the machine no longer existed in the Cromticians current society because they were so old. That finding them was like expecting Earth to have easily found horse-drawn carriages. It just wasn’t going to happen. And even then the those horse-drawn carriages would still have modern touches that would make them unsuitable.

So, they were delayed because they had to make the tools to make the tools in order to make the machine. And those tools’ schematics had also needed to be found which had also slowed everything down.

“But the process on the machine is good,” summed up Keenser. “Follow.”

They followed, and Keenser let them to a connecting room. 

In the center of the room was a cube, roughly around three feet. It looked raw. Circuitry was exposed to the air. It glowered white in certain spots, and was completely dark in others. The machine looked exactly as Keenser had reported. 

Half finished.

Jim looked at it and didn’t bother to check Spock’s reaction because he’d bet his captaincy that the kid was scanning the machine. 

“The treaty with the Cromtician leaders for the new starbase have been finalized,” said Jim. “And we have three more days scheduled in this system. How much longer will it take to complete it?”

“Eight days,” said Keenser, after thinking for moment. 

Jim grimaced. He’d been afraid of that.

“If Scotty was down here it would go faster,” added Keenser. 

“Sorry, Keenser, but Scotty‘s needed on the Enterprise,” said Jim. 

“I know,” said Keenser, rapidly blinking his eyes. “He had already told me about the problem with the part for the main power coupling from Space Base 23.”

“Yeah,” said Jim. “The man should have already woken up from his much needed sleep. He‘s probably already going over that replacement part he put together with a fine tooth comb before he gets the matter/antimatter engines going again.”

Scotty was determined that no one from the Engineering Department but himself would be double-checking everything. The report that Jim had read from him had been pretty clear that Scotty wasn’t pleased with his minions at the moment. Scotty had already submitted requests to run multiple simulations on emergency response and equipment checks so his people would be getting run pretty ragged as soon as they weren’t so needed to keep an eye on the Enterprise‘s engines. 

Pretty much, as soon as they were truly fixed - with a brand spanking new part for the nacelle - Scotty would be doling out punishment, rewards and tests in equal measure. Jim had just sent him a reminder to not actually keelhaul anyone. He’d been amused when Scotty’s response had been a grudging agreement.

Keenser did that odd bird-like movement of his head again. “That will not take him eight days. Another day at most.”

Jim sighed in disappointment. Then his eyes gleamed as the wicked idea of asking Scotty so slow down the makeshift repairs entered his head. _Now, there’s a thought, yet will Scotty go along with it?_ Jim wondered. Scotty was rather sensitive about taking hits to his reputation as the best Chief Engineer in Starfleet. It was a lingering side-effect of having been exiled to Delta Vega, and practically forgotten. But Jim did have some pull with Scotty so he’d just have to ask him as soon as they got back to ship and find out.

“Well, there‘s no real pressure to get the machine done,” said Jim softly. “Spock is aging a good rate that it may not even be necessary.”

Keenser blinked at him. 

“But-” Jim added, giving Spock a swift look. “I would like it as a back up.”

And that was his main motivation now to get the aging machine completed and on the ship. If Spock ended up running into a plateau in his age jumping then maybe the only thing that would get Spock back to his usual age would be that machine. Plus, Bones’ warning that Spock’s own training in emotional suppression would only increase as he grew still rung in Jim’s ears. 

The aging machine would be their safety net.

Jim told Keenser this. 

“We can build the rest of the components for the machine within three days and then assemble it onboard the Enterprise,” said Keenser. 

Jim brightened. “That would fit within our time table and it wouldn’t delay our side-trip to a starbase to pick up a real conduit part for the nacelle. Perfect!”

“I hate to burst your bubble, but what if there something else that we need from the Cromticians?” asked McCoy, dryly.

“We can call them,” answered Jim, breezily. “It‘s not like they don‘t have the technology for it.”

McCoy frowned.

“It would be best to have the aging machine on the ship,” said Keenser. “One of those components that we need to make it work is the transporter.”

McCoy made a face of disgust of this mention of his nemesis.

“We wouldn’t be staying here the entire time that Spock is aging anyway,” said Jim quietly. “At the rate he‘s going he‘ll just hit his teens when we get out of here.”

This made Uhura turn to Spock. “How old are you now, Spock?”

“10 years, 4 months and 3 days and 23.22 hours,” said Spock promptly, not even looking up from the tricorder. 

Jim gave himself a mental pat on the back for knowing exactly what Spock was doing.

McCoy caught his smug expression and raised an eyebrow at him. Jim widened his eyes in innocence and got a disbelieving snort as a response.

“Do you need anyone else to help you?” asked Jim, looking to Keenser. “A lot of the science department is still available, and well… security. Though, I don‘t know what you‘d use them for.”

“The heavy lifting?” guessed McCoy. 

“Only if you want them to really bruise you up during your next training sessions when they figure out you‘re using them as grunt labor,” said Sulu, in amusement. 

Jim agreed. He didn’t want to deal with an upset Cupcake. The glares that he got from the rest of the security officers alone would make him paranoid about walking around the halls of the ship. Never mind all those women that Cupcake seemed to be dating being upset that their boy toy was taken away from them. And no, Jim had yet to figure out what made Cupcake the Casanova of the Enterprise. He didn’t want to know. Ever.

Though, he did soothe himself by the reminder that he held the title off-ship. 

“It‘s not needed,” said Keenser. “The Cromticians are providing help.”

Satisfied that everything was going along as smooth as was possible, even it was slow going, Jim was set to bid goodbye to Keenser and the rest of his people but was delayed because the science officers had finally clued in that Spock was there. And they insisted on coming to Spock to ask him how he was. Jim would realized that these people hadn’t had a chance to talk their young commanding officer since they’d left the ship almost the same day that Spock had been changed. 

And unlike the rest of the crew aboard the ship, they probably hadn’t even had the chance to see Spock as a small ten year old boy. So Jim decided that their morale was a little more important and gave them free reign. 

It helped that Spock didn’t appear to be as overwhelmed by their attention as he’d been before. Jim rather thought the questions the kid asking about the science behind the technology that the science officers were reproducing went a long way to helping Spock relax under their enthusiastic scrutiny. Jim delighted to see that Spock was no longer taken aback by the level of interest that perfect strangers had for him. In fact, Spock’s reaction had slowly shifted to being more pleased than surprised. The surprise was still there but it was much less than it used to be. It probably helped a lot that these officers were more restrained in their expression of affection for the boy and didn’t overwhelm him with their attention. 

Or possibly, and Jim’s personal favorite theory, was that Spock was finally getting used to it.

 _It seems the kid if finally accepting the fact that everyone on the Enterprise likes him,_ Jim thought. _Good. It‘s about time. I thought I‘d have to make a flashing sign and carry it around before it sunk in._ Actually, the idea of doing such a thing was pretty appealing. He’d definitely would have to do it if Spock - adult version - reverted in his thinking.

There was a nearly imperceptible smile on Spock’s face as one of the science officers, a dark haired woman barely Jim‘s age was gesturing at a chunk of crystals embedded into power converter. 

It made Jim’s own lips stretch into a wide grin just catching a glimpse of such an expression on Spock.

“So exactly how much time do we have left until the midday meal?” Jim asked Sulu. 

Uhura and McCoy also kept an eye on Spock. Their expressions mirrored Jim’s delight. They clearly also caught the same smile that Jim had on the kid and were tickled pink to see it.

“About two more hours, sir,” said Sulu. “The rotation of the planet is slower than Earth, and their day runs to 37 hours. That‘s why my own stay here kept running longer than usual.”

“Oh, right,” said Jim, absently. He’d forgotten that little factoid with everything else that they’d dealt with. 

Uhura was then pulled away to translate one of the tool schematics. Sulu was distracted by a young adult Cromtician and even McCoy wandered away to treat a couple minor injuries that had cropped up among the crew members. Even experts with tools occasionally slipped and hurt themselves. And although the degree of injury was very small McCoy looked pleased at making himself useful.

Jim was just glad that Bones wasn’t looking for an excuse to use his new medical equipment on _him_ for once.

Jim gave them all about half an hour, which he figured was long enough for the crew to bask in the presence of young Spock before he got everyone moving. 

Sulu and Uhura both asked to be let off duty which Jim agreed simply because they’d already been working a long duty shift just by being down on the planet. They both needed some time to relax and do a few brainless things. They’d earned it. Also, Sulu had thought ahead and had asked the young adult Cromtician he’d been talking with to find a map of the city and surrounding areas for Jim to look over. It was perfectly detailed down to the last centimeter and was just as Jim needed to find a place for Spock to play around. 

So Jim watched Uhura and Sulu be vanished into particles of light as the transporter returned them to the ship before he found Bones flirting with a red-headed ensign. 

“Okay, now you really can‘t complain that I flirt too much with your nurses,” said Jim dryly, making the ensign flush pink before she excused herself and left. 

“Aw, Jim, why did you do that for?” said McCoy, plaintively as he watched the young woman sashay away from him.

Jim smirked and slung an arm over his shoulder. “Call it payback for the time you chased that sweet little nurse away from me.”

McCoy glared back and shrugged his arm off him, “I can‘t believe that you‘re still holding a grudge about that. It‘s been weeks. Get over it.”

“Well, you can flirt with the ensigns at any time,” said Jim, dismissively. “Now, come help me rescue Spock. I think that if we wait any longer he‘ll want to stick around to help put the machine together.”

Jim and McCoy both contemplated the very boring future that would be the result for them both if Spock wanted to stay. And they shuddered in unison. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll go grab the kid while you wait for us by the door,” said McCoy. “Those science officers of his are more scared of me than they are of you anyway.”

“Hey! That‘s not true!” said Jim, resisting the urge to sulk at the idea that he wasn’t as intimidating as Bones. Anyone who knew anything about the man knew that he was the biggest softy on the ship. Jim didn’t want to think that Bones was considered more dangerous than he, but then he had to admit that Bones with a hypo was the stuff that nightmares were made of and had sparked off more than one new phobia among the crew. 

McCoy was successful in his Spock retrieval and kept any lingering science officers back with a dark glower. 

Jim grinned widely at this mother bear act. 

Spock looked nearly amused as he walked before Bones until he reached Jim’s side. 

“Ready to go kid?” asked Jim. 

Spock nodded. 

And so Jim led them all out of the room, out of the building and back onto the streets of the city of Tretot.


	17. Chapter 17

Finding a spot of wilderness - or at least as much wilderness as they could find on the outskirts of a major city - wasn’t too difficult. There were already so many trees smack dab in the middle of Tretot that it wasn’t too obvious when they hit the countryside. 

Only the abrupt lack of brightly colored buildings and walkways served as the clues that they‘d gotten far enough from the city to meet Spock‘s needs of wildlife.

Spock was content to scan the wildly growing ferns, grasses, bushes and trees that were along a major roadway leading into Tretot. 

Jim had decided to stick close to the road because he didn’t look forward to Bones’ teasing if he managed to get them lost. It wasn‘t an actual danger because he could call up the Enterprise with a flick of his communicator but Bones would never letting him live it down if he did was more than enough incentive to be careful. With the road just meters away, Jim would find it easily again and follow it back to the city. Even if he got turned around, the soft rumbling of the Cromticians vehicles would draw him to it.

The only downside about being so far away from a majority of the Cromticians buildings and technology was that it was practically an open invitation for the insects to come out of the vegetation to attack them. 

“Goddamn it!” shouted McCoy, as a blue bug the size of Jim’s pointer finger leaped down from tree branches and landed in his hair. It buzzed annoyingly before McCoy flailed and managed to smack the insect away. Its hard carapace sent it sailing away instead of crushing it under his hand.

Jim ducked so that the insect went right over his head instead of hitting him in the face. 

“I take back everything I‘ve said about emigrating here,” continued McCoy, scowling and glaring at the branches above them. “If one more bug gets near me…” he trailed off threateningly.

“You‘ll hypo it?” guessed Jim as he smirked and flickered away an insect of his own that came out of nowhere. This one was a vivid purple with spots of yellow and easily twice as large as the one that had dive bombed Bones‘ head.

The insects, seemed to have decided that human hair would be a perfect place to lay their eggs and had been attacking them since they stopped walking. Spock - due to his Vulcan half of his genetics - was being ignored by the insects completely. Jim thought that this was highly unfair.

McCoy didn’t spare him a glance to glare but kept a suspicious eye on their surroundings. “I‘ll do more than that,” he grumbled. “I‘ll give new meaning to the phrase: squashed like a bug.” 

Jim just grinned harder and sent the next insect straight at Bones. 

McCoy swore and smacked it right back at Jim, like it was a living ping pong ball.

Jim ducked again and snickered, as the gleaming bit of buzzing orange vanished into a bush.

“I hate you,” said McCoy, flatly.

Jim just patted him on the back and laughed. 

McCoy promptly send the next bug right at him. 

Jim abruptly stopped laughing when it landed in his mouth. He choked, gagged and spat it out. He made a face at the wiggling green legs in his palm. The bug quickly flipped right-side up and flickered open its wet wings.

“Oh, yuck,” Jim said, and send his own glare right back at Bones. He tossed the bug off into the bushes.

McCoy smirked at him. “That‘s what you get for having such a big mouth.”

“This,” Jim said in a deadly tone. “Is. War.”

In front of them, Spock finally looked up from his scans and raised an eyebrow at the scene of two grown men lobbing insects at each other like they were snow balls.

It took one misfire flying right past Spock’s nose for them to pause in mid-throw. 

“Err, sorry Spock,” said Jim sheepishly, having been the one that had nearly hit Spock with friendly fire. McCoy opened up his hand to let the insect fly away on humming iridescent wings. 

The boy raised a small slanted eyebrow at them both. There was silent amusement in his eyes, evident only by the tiny crinkles at the corner of his eyes.

Jim wasn’t able to resist grinning at McCoy’s flushed expression. 

“Oh, shut up,” muttered McCoy at him with his cheeks an impressive shade of red.

Jim just snickered, ducked as a another insect dive-bombed his head. 

Jim swatted it away and asked plaintively, “are you nearly done, Spock?”

“I have nearly completed running my scans,” said Spock. He checked the screen of the tricorder and added, “I just need to run a geological scan.”

“Okay,” said Jim, and double checked the time on the communicator. It showed the time that the Enterprise was running on, and that of the planet due to their current location.

They had about twenty minutes before Sulu had told him that the Cromticians’ midday meal would start. And just like Jim had predicted he was hungry enough that his stomach had been rumbling for the last ten minutes. On the ship it had gone past lunch and would approach dinner in less than three hours. So, he was starving.

Though, he wasn’t hungry enough to eat bugs. Yet.

Abruptly, he realized that he should have double checked with someone about the etiquette involved in a Cromtician meal. Oh well, he would just wing it. He usually did pretty well in following his instincts. Plus, between Spock’s tricorder and Bones’ medical expertise, the chances that he’d accidentally end up poisoning himself were pretty low. 

Two bugs landing in his hair a once knocked him out of his thoughts and made him swear as he waved them away. 

“Hell! I understand why the insects have been such a problem for the Cromticians,” said Jim. “They never let up.”

McCoy nodded, and smacked another insect away. “I‘m beginning to think that they‘re drawn by the scent our blood. The Cromticians are also iron-based. That would explain why they don‘t think that Spock‘s hair would work as a nest. He doesn‘t smell like food.” McCoy groaned, “I‘m so going to take the longest sonic shower ever recorded as soon as we get back to the Enterprise.”

Jim agreed. Between the heat, the humidity and the bugs he also wanted a long shower.

“I have completed my scans of the planet‘s geological features in this location,” chimed Spock. His eyes were pleased. 

“That‘s great, Spock,” said Jim. 

“About time,” sighed McCoy, his voice more relieved than scolding. “Now, can we get back to some place that has a lot fewer insects?”

Jim laughed and took point as he backtracked their path. 

Spock walked after him. His eyes were back onto the screen of his tricorder while McCoy trailed after him. 

They had deliberately kept Spock between them since they’d left the city. Jim wasn’t too certain about how many wild animals roamed in this area so they had decided to provide protection for the boy beforehand. 

Jim hadn’t brought a phaser down to the planet. The Cromticians friendliness had negated such an action so if it come down to it, he’d stick his body between danger and Spock. McCoy had agreed and teased Jim about his maternal instincts again. Jim had pointedly ignored him.

Jim heard the Cromticians’ vehicles from the road and led them right back to it.  
*-*-*-*

Jim was having a blast during the mid-day meal.

The Cromticians - due to their previous contact with Federation officials - had put together a spread that was a mix of various Cromticians foods that were perfectly palatable to humans. And even - to Jim’s relief - to the small Vulcan with them.

Their table - a large circular one - was full of fruits salads, breads, vegetable plates, and meat dishes. It was essentially a pot luck. Every Cromtician leader, had brought food to the table and then it was a matter of picking and choosing through the huge selection for what you wanted to eat. 

Jim rather liked the set up of the table. It reminded him of the sort he’d seen in Chinese restaurants, where all the food was on a turntable in the center which was spun around as people picked out what they wanted. 

It gave the entire meal a much more communal feel than Jim was used to feeling.

It was tons of fun. 

His enjoyment also had had a lot to do with the fact that he was planted right next to Spock and one of Marh’s cubs. Not Yarm, but the other small one named Gerh, who kept making happy noises as Marh carefully fed him. Yarm had been thoroughly distracted by the tribble while the meal was being set up and had only reluctantly given it up when Marh had strictly ordered him to come eat. He’d ended stuck between the much older Cromticians leaders, who’s antennae kept twisting in amusement at his antics.

McCoy sat across from Jim, between slender Tilk and burly Surn. He was pretty equally distracted by the questions they asked him about the Federation. 

Jim in turn kept an eye on Spock, making certain that the boy actually put food on his plate instead of just running scans with the tricorder. There was so much food set out that Jim thought it would be mostly eaten by the time that Spock scanned the last bit of it. So, whenever he saw something that Spock looked at with special interest, Jim grabbed it and put in on the boy’s plate. 

The only difficulty that Jim had was in deciding what to eat first.

He eyed the Cromticians, and mimicked them. 

Jim found himself spending more time talking to Marh, over the cub’s head than talking with Spock. Spock himself was thoroughly distracted by Sotl, who sat next to him and kept asking Spock questions about science. As Jim considered him to be the best one qualified to answer those questions Jim didn’t interrupt their discussion.

“Our cubs grow out the unrestrained joy of childhood in ten years,” said Marh, in answer one of Jim’s questions. “Before this time, they explore what piques their interest in order to find the Path of their Way.”

_Ten years was a much shorter childhood than humans had, no wonder the Cromticians place such a special emphasis on that point in their lives._

“What if they can‘t find their Way?” asked Jim, curiously. He had a special interest in how the Cromtician society dealt with their drifters, having been one himself for several years before joining Starfleet.

Marh’s antennae moved in amusement. “One‘s Way is always subject to change, Captain known as James Tiberius Kirk. There is no determined Way for any individual, and the time in which one finds one‘s Way is also mutable up to the very end of the Path.”

 _Death,_ Jim mentally translated. 

“That‘s a long time to have make a decision,” said Jim, surprised. 

“There is no need among our people to force another to follow certain Ways as it had once been in our far past,” said Marh, her antennae curling in a movement that Jim hadn‘t seen before. “The level of our technology makes such restrictions on an individual's Way unnecessary.”

“I understand,” Jim said with a nod. “Humans used to have the same problem on Earth. We’ve improved a lot since those days, I‘m glad to say.”

Marh’s antennae twisted with interest and so Jim found himself explaining about Earth history. It took up a good portion of the meal, but Marh asked enough questions that Jim knew that at least he wasn’t boring her to death.

The only hiccough in the conversation came when she asked him how he had found his Way as a Starfleet Captain. It made him painfully aware of Spock’s interest as the boy tilted his head towards them. 

Jim got out of it by talking about how Pike had recruited him to Starfleet by essentially challenging him to do something worthy with his life. He was cheerful about explaining how it had all began with him flirting with Uhura and how it had turned into bar fight before Pike stepped in to stop the cadet that was trying to rearrange his face. 

“I wasn’t hurt too badly hurt or anything,” said Jim, in response to the nearly invisible scowl on Spock’s face and Marh’s flattened antennae. Even the small cub next to Jim was looking up at Jim instead of being snout first into the food having also been caught by the story. “Things happen when you mix alcohol and hormones, especially among humans.” he continued in amusement. 

“Cubs,” said Marh, in understanding, and her antennae lifted up. “You were little more than a cub fighting another cub.”

“Err,” said Jim, taken aback. He hadn’t exactly been a kid. But as he paused and looked back on his own actions he could see how the immaturity of his own actions - the taunting of the cadets - could be taken that way. “That‘s kinda accurate,” he admitted. “Humans can be fully grown in body and not all the way matured mentally.” 

“Fascinating,” murmured Spock. 

Jim would grudgingly admit that he’d matured a lot more in the last six months since he was made captain than he had in the previous three years in the Academy. He’d always taken everything as a game or a challenge in those days before the destruction of Vulcan. He’d known that Starfleet served an important purpose, but he hadn’t understood the depth of that need. Not really. He had always rolled his eyes at the peacekeeping armada speeches, even when in the Academy.

But he got it now, he truly did. The Federation needed to be protected. All its people, and all its planets. His own part in the failure of keeping Vulcan safe had made him all the more determined that nothing like it would ever occur again. 

And every officer on the Enterprise who’d been on the ship that day agreed with him. 

That day had created a close bond among the Enterprise crew, unlike that seen in other starships crews. It had bound them together, so much so that when Jim had given everyone the option to transfer to another ship - he’d been thinking that his youth would create problems for some people - no one took him up on it. It had surprised him quite a bit when he realized that they all would accept him as their captain. He’d thought that at least Cupcake would have taken the opportunity to move to a ship where his captain wouldn’t keep calling him by the name of a dessert. Yet, he hadn’t either.

“I‘m just glad that Pike didn‘t let my attitude turn him off recruiting me,” said Jim, with a sheepish grin.

“One needs to have patience with cubs,” said Marh softly. She petted her nearest cubs.

Jim very carefully didn’t look at Spock as he agreed.

Wanting to keep Marh from continuing her line of questioning, Jim asked about her cubs and received an enthusiastic earful from her. 

When the meal wrapped up, Jim was happy stuffed to the gills and he’d developed an appreciation of Cromtician food. Enough that he’d asked for their recipes to see if he could get replicators to reproduce them though he knew that the replicators wouldn’t be able to get it quite right. The Cromtician food was grown, not replicated. 

Spock offered him the use of his scans too. Jim happily accepted.

After the meal, Jim expected that they would bid cheerful goodbyes to the Cromtician leaders and cubs but instead he and Bones were invited by Marh to help prepare her cubs for their naps. 

“Naps?” asked McCoy, stifling a yawn of his own.

“Our cubs need their fur to be cleaned,” said Marh. “It is a daily ritual that reaches back to the day when our people had greater difficulty in clearing the insects from their fur.”

Remembering their own difficulty with the insects and wanting to encourage this easy relationship with the Cromticians leaders Jim agreed.

Jim was amused when each of the cubs ended up crawling into the lap of nearby adult. The Cromtician leaders without cubs, excused themselves, leaving Tilk, Marh, Karn with a cubs. He was surprised though when instead of choosing him, one of the cubs picked Bones. He smirked at Bones’ wide-eyes at least until Bones raised an eyebrow at him and pointed his chin down next to Jim’s side. There patiently waiting to be noticed was Spock. 

_Oh,_ Jim thought, _right. I have a **cub** of my own._

When Marh handed him a white wooden comb, Jim realized that he was expected to comb Spock’s hair. 

“You know,” Jim told Spock, “considering the insects on this planet didn‘t even go near you I don‘t think that this is going to make much of a difference.”

Spock eyed Jim’s blond hair with interest. “I could check to see if any insects succeeded in laying eggs in your hair, Jim.”

Jim chuckled, and ran a hand through his hair. “Nah. I‘m good.”

Then he got Spock to shift his chair around so that he sat right in front of Jim. The back of the chair was now to the side so that Jim could comb his hair with ease. He began cautiously, not used to doing such a thing with another person and he was rather reluctant to hurt Spock. He was extra careful going around Spock’s tiny pointed ears, cupping them with his palm in order to keep the wide-toothed comb from grazing the sensitive skin. 

Jim only paused when he saw that spots of green blossoming in Spock’s cheeks. 

_Oh boy,_ Jim thought, and shook his head in a mix of fondness and bewilderment. He still didn’t get what had set off the kid’s crush on him no matter what Bones had said. It still felt like it had come out of nowhere. And seeing evidence of it like this just made him feel very bemused.

McCoy smirked at him over the head of the cub who’s fur he was carefully combing, his hands gentle as he worked. He carded the comb in smooth strokes until the cub, who Jim was certain was named Birn, eyes were blissfully closed. Jim thought that he was also so relaxed that he was limp though it was hard to tell under all the fluffy gray fur.

If the cub had been a kitten, he’d be purring. 

Jim glared at McCoy hotly, and went back to focusing on combing Spock’s hair to keep from grumbling at Bones. Then he blinked as he realized that he was actually hearing purring. From Spock. 

When he looked over the boy’s shoulder Jim realized that it was the tribble that was purring away in Spock’s pocket. It was affected by Spock’s mood and it was making it purr away in delight.

Jim rolled his eyes at himself. _Of course, I’d forgotten about the furball._

While Spock didn’t turn into a melted relaxed puddle like Jim could see that every single cub had, he did relax into a looser posture and his eyes drifted shut. 

After a moment, Jim couldn’t help but grin because that tiny smile had returned to the corners of Spock‘s mouth.

He was fascinated with the feel of Spock’s hair. It was smoother than human hair, no doubt a Vulcan genetic trait. Though if it was intended to better diffuse heat or simply to keep the sand out of it, Jim couldn’t say. It was certainly interesting to curl a lock over his fingers to feel it before he combed through it. Spock’s hair didn’t really need to be combed. It hadn’t developed any knots neither had it been disarrayed during the earthquake. Quite frankly, Jim was more temped to ruffle Spock’s hair than he was in trying to make it neater.

He resisted the impulse. Bravely. Barely, but he managed it. Though mentally picturing the outrage that such an act would evoke in Spock made his grin all the wider. 

So it turned out that this combing the cubs was a pretty relaxing activity. He could see how it had developed into a long tradition among the Cromtician people even with their current level of technology which kept the majority of insects away from their fur.

Soon Jim found himself stifling a yawn, brought on by the food and the low murmur of voices that surrounded him. He looked over to Bones and saw that he was grinning down at Birn, who had fallen asleep. 

Marh stood up, stepping close to Bones as her antennae moved in amusement, shifting her own asleep cub in her arms. “The cubs will sleep for several hours,” she said softly. “If you are capable of lifting the cub up without disturbing him, Doctor known as Leonard McCoy, then I can show you the resting place.”

Bones chuckled, “That shouldn‘t be a problem, ma‘am. I actually got experience with little ones. Even put Spock to sleep once already.”

Spock shot McCoy a look of mild surprise, and Jim could feel him stiffen slightly. He reflexively stroked his back to calm him down. “It was when you fell asleep in the mess hall that first day,” explained Jim. “He carried you since I couldn‘t, or you know that I would have.”

Spock nodded in understanding and they waited for Bones.

McCoy came back still smiling. 

Marh was the only one of the Cromticians that came back, to thank them and to wish them a safe journey. She extended an invitation to return to enjoy another meal with them whenever they had the opportunity to come back to the planet. 

Jim thanked her on all of their behalves, and wished her and the rest of the leadership council good health before he called up the Enterprise to beam them aboard.

Overall this had been a good trip, and for once Jim was looking forward to writing up their away mission report for Starfleet Command. He had nothing but good things to say about the Cromticians.  
*-*-*-*

“Are you sure that this is actually necessary,” groaned Jim, as McCoy insisted that they stop by the medical bay for more in depth scans. He wanted a shower. Hell, he wanted a nap of his own.

Spock walked next to Jim, his expression stoic. 

Jim kind of wished that he’d be more expressive if only to add the ammunition of a barely hidden pout to Jim’s much louder protest. He had a feeling that Bones wouldn’t have been able to resist it. But Spock was getting harder and harder to read. Well, at least by people that weren’t him.

“Damn it, Jim,” grumbled McCoy. “Think of it as being for my peace of mind than anything else. I don’t want to wake up later and find out that you‘ve got insects growing inside you, or something like that. I like my sleep. Uninterrupted.”

“And who was the one that hit an insect into my mouth?” asked Jim, dryly. 

“All the more reason to run you through scans,” said McCoy, triumphantly. “Who knows where the bug has been.”

Jim agreed, only partially reluctant. He knew that the other reason McCoy wanted to run those scans was for Spock’s benefit. And neither he or Bones would be one hundred percent satisfied with his health until he’d done so.

He just liked protesting because it made Bones grumble. And Bones grumbling never failed to amuse him. It was a vicious cycle. 

As they walked through the halls of the ship to get to the nearest turbolift, they were constantly greeted. The crew were cheerful in welcoming back their captain, first officer and CMO, though Spock earned more hellos than Jim or Bones put together. 

Rand was waiting for them at the entrance to the medical bay. Her PADD was tucked against her hip and her expression back to ‘kick ass’ mode. 

Jim groaned, “I don’t suppose any of that can wait?”

Rand’s raised an blonde eyebrow at him. “Captain,” she said firmly, “there are several reports that have needed your signatures from yesterday. They can no longer be pushed back.”

Jim silently held out his hand and Rand trailed after him as he entered the medical bay, this time trailing after Spock.

“Mr. Scott also wanted me to inform you that he is set to start up the matter/antimatter cores at 0745 hours, tomorrow morning,” she continued, her voice perfectly professional. “His report from Engineering is the first on the list.”

Jim nodded and absently thanked her as he hopped onto the bio-bed that McCoy pointed him to. He touched the screen to open up the first report and read Scotty’s report. He ignored McCoy scanning him though he did look up to smile at Spock as M’Benga pointed the boy the adjacent bio-bed.

Scotty had apparently crashed hard once he‘d finally gotten himself off his duty shift because he hadn’t reported back to Engineering until 1230 hours. Once he’d been there he’d spent the next five hours going over the replacement power coupling in the nacelle until he’d been satisfied that it would hold up to the large amount of energy that was going to go cruising through it, from impulse to warp. The only warning that Scott had for him was that he thought that their put together out of baling wire and duct tape part wouldn’t hold up beyond warp factor 4. Which meant that they’d be sticking to warp 2 for the most part, only shifting up to warp 3 if they really needed that speed. 

Considering the odds that had been piled against them just in getting a working part put together, Jim was pleased at the quick solution. So it meant that their travel to the nearest starbase would take a few days longer than usual, that was better than blowing out the nacelle or ending up stuck longer in the Cromtic system for who knew how long. 

Mind you, Jim liked the Cromticians but they didn’t have starships and therefore they didn’t have the facilities needed to fix the Enterprise or anything resembling a warp factor engine. Their technology for that was even older than the Cub Sphere and the reversal engine. Although if they absolutely had to, Jim knew that the Cromticians would've helped. He was just relieved that it wasn’t necessary. 

The slower travel also gave them the unexpected benefit of buying them more time to have Spock age up even further. Jim was glad about that too. 

_Damn, Scotty’s good,_ thought Jim, as he read the more technical information in the report. He double checked the math behind the material stresses that Scotty had factored in, not because he didn’t trust the man, but because it gave him a clearer understanding of the limits that the temporary power coupling. Knowing what it could take in case of an emergency was one of those details that he _needed_ to know as the captain.

When he finished Jim signed off on the report, and carefully added his own delight at Scotty’s work in an added attachment that also asked that a commendation be added to Scotty’s personal file. 

The second report on the list, Jim was surprised to see, had come from Starfleet Intelligence. They were requesting Jim’s thoughts about Space Base 23 and its commander.

Jim made a face. The last thing he wanted to do right now was think about that slime ball. It would just ruin his good mood. Anyway, he hadn’t had that much interaction with him. He’d pretty much had gotten away from him as fast as he could as soon as the opportunity arose. And to avoid punching the bastard.

“Yeoman,” said Jim, struck by an idea. “I think you‘re better suited to fulfill this request from Starfleet Intelligence. I can only give them a small bit of information.” He handed her the PADD at the open document.

Rand read it quickly and her blue eyes narrowed to slits. 

“Oh, yes, sir,” she said. “I can answer their request. In fact, there a few other crew members who I can question to get a more detailed report.”

Jim frowned. “What? Why hadn‘t I heard of this?”

Rand blinked at him in innocence. “We took care of it, sir.”

Jim stared at her suspiciously and then his eyes widened as he remembered that Cupcake’s popularity with the women on the crew had shot up right after their visit to Space Base 23.

“Huh,” said Jim, as he also thought about Cupcake’s habit of leaping up to defend his fellow cadets. “I don‘t want to know, do I?”

Rand flashed him a satisfied smile full of teeth. 

Jim grinned back and took the PADD away from her to continue reading. The rest of the reports were the usual ship stuff including those from Keenser, Sulu and Uhura that he already knew about. He quickly perused them just to double check the information that Starfleet Command would get before he also added his signature to them. 

By the time he was half-way done, McCoy had finished his scans and had kicked him off the bio-bed. Since he was waiting for Spock’s examination to end, Jim retreated to Bones’ office in order to finish reading. 

He was nearly done when Spock walked in and sat down patiently across the desk. 

“How‘d it go?” asked Jim. 

“Doctor M‘Benga has cleared me,” said Spock, calmly. “My health is optimal and the neural scans shows no lingering trauma from the memories of T‘Pring‘s death.”

“That‘s good,” said Jim, with a soft sigh of relief. “I just need a couple more reports to finish reading and we can escape medical bay.”

Spock nodded. 

“Hey, Scotty‘s asked us to come down to visit the engines before he sets up the matter/antimatter mix tomorrow morning. He‘d thought you‘d like to see it.”

Spock’s eyes lit up. “I would appreciate a close look at the engines of the Enterprise during this process.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Jim with a smile. “After I‘m done with these I want to stop by my quarters. Since, the trip down to the planet counted towards my light duties that Bones still has me on, I‘m free for the rest of the evening. What do you think of us having a quiet evening?”

Spock considered this carefully. “It would allow me time to review and organize all the data that I have collected about the planet Cromtic in the computer.”


	18. Chapter 18

It didn’t strike Jim that he hadn’t shown this version Spock his quarters before until they were approaching it. It made him hesitate for a split second before he got within the door sensors. 

_At least, there’s no mess,_ Jim thought, amused at himself. He was certain that if he’d left a mess in his room then his yeoman would have taken care of it. Rand was reliable that way.

As soon as Jim passed the threshold he called the computer for lights. Jim turned to look at Spock’s reaction. 

Spock was looking around, his brown eyes gleaming with interest and suppressed curiosity.

It made Jim look at his own room with new eyes. 

It was a pretty bare room. Jim hadn’t come to Starfleet Academy with anything more than the clothes he’d been wearing. And in the three years he’d been taking classes he hadn’t bought many things or pulled any of his property out of storage.

Other than the usual standard issue furniture that all the higher ranked officer quarters had, his room had an extra bookshelf. It was filled halfway with old-style paper books, an eclectic mix that ranged from Westerns to Shakespeare. Half were replicated and the other half were real old paper, veritable antiques. The shelves also held trinkets. Not the usual standard knick-knacks but personal reminders of the planets and missions that the Enterprise had gone on. 

Jim had everything from a dried flower from Getty V that had made him high and silly, fully neutralized, of course, to the spear head that had nearly killed him, to a red pebble that he’d found on the transporter pad after Spock had beamed back up from Vulcan. Jim thought that it had been caught on the robes of one of the Vulcan elders. He’d even thought about giving it to Spock. It was the last small bit of the planet to survive. He ended up talking himself out of it. Spock had lost too much that day for a pebble to mean anything.

At least, he’d believed that once. Jim wasn’t that certain that it was true anymore. Of the older Spock, not the kid.

The paper books drew Spock like a magnet until the boy was staying right in front of the bookcase, staring at Jim’s Mark Twain collection. He had a special liking for that old American author. He had a clever and with a sardonic humor that appealed to Jim. Anyway, they had been childhood favorites that hadn’t lost their appeal even after all these years.

Other than the items on the bookshelf, the entire room was empty of personal effects. It was probably not a good sign that a Vulcan had a more decorated room than he did. Even if he was half-human. 

_It just makes me glad that Bones is in charge of my psych evaluations._

“Pick out a book if you want,” said Jim, as he reached past Spock to drop the white wooden comb onto the shelf. Marh had told him that he could keep it. He thought that the comb would be perfect memento to remember this mission. Well, other than all the pictures of Spock he‘d sneakily taken. He liked having a physical objects as reminders.

“I have never personally read this author,” said Spock, “but I have had the stories read to me by my mother.”

 _Oh, no wonder he’s drawn to them._

Spock’s fingers hovered right above ’The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn’. 

“She has good taste,” said Jim, quietly. “Though if you’re going to read one you should read ‘The Adventures of Tom Sawyer’ first.”

Spock nodded and gently pried both books out of the shelf. He treated them with care and it made Jim wonder if somehow Spock could tell that those books were true paper. Or if it was simply a love of reading that made him treat the novels like treasures. Either way, Jim was silently pleased. Those books had been a true find that he’d stumbled across a used book store in San Francisco and one the few things he’d bought for himself while in the Academy.

Jim then had to grin as Spock promptly headed for the chair before the com-unit. He sat down and opened up the cover of ‘Tom Sawyer’ to start reading, right then and there.

Jim took the opportunity to take a quick shower and change of clothes. He was really grimy and sticky with sweat. Jim had picked out a few bits of leaf from his hair already, he didn’t even want to begin to imagine what else he’d picked up from the planet. At the very least, Bones’ scans had cleared him of insects or insect eggs. 

By the time he came out the restroom wearing casual clothes, Spock was already several pages into the book. He was so absorbed into the story that he didn’t even look up as Jim walked past him.

Jim gave him a fond look and went to find his own PADD.

He wanted to upload some articles to read without being tied to the com-unit and he also had to write a couple letters. It took him a moment to discover where it had gone since he hadn’t had to use the PADD for several days. He snorted in amusement when he found it under his own bed. He didn‘t even remember dumping it down there. The PADD was dusty so he absently wiped the screen with his fingers and then cleaned his fingers on the Starfleet issue coverlet.

“Spock, I‘m all set,” said Jim, looking over to the boy. 

Spock nodded. He carefully shut the book cover, tucking both books under his arms and stood up.

“Do you want anything from your room? Or do you want to take a shower?” asked Jim. 

“I need a new set of clothes,” said Spock. “While the overalls are loose enough to still be comfortable the shirt has become too tight. I should also return the tribble to its cage.”

Jim considered Spock, and he could see that the cloth against Spock’s shoulders was stretched tight. The sleeves of the shirt had risen up to expose the fine bones of the boy’s wrists.

“How old are you now, Spock?” asked Jim, fascinated. Spock’s growth was pretty significant.

“I am currently 11 years, 6 months, 2 weeks, 3 days and 1.1 hours old,” said Spock. 

Jim blinked in surprise. _He’s eleven years old already?_

He trailed after Spock as the boy led them next door to his own room. And he wondered if Spock had gotten back that memory of the altercation he’d had with his fellow students that Sarek had told him about. There was no way to be certain without actually asking the kid. 

_I wonder how important of a memory it is?_ wondered Jim. It wasn’t like Sarek had expanded much on it. He mentally shrugged to himself. _Well, it‘s not like I can ask him about every single thing that went on his life._

While, Spock went about getting new clothes and setting the trilling and clearly unhappy tribble back into its cage, Jim downloaded the articles about Vulcan adolescence that he’d been reading into his PADD.

“Do you want to stay in your room?” asked Jim, when Spock came out of the rest room. He let him have access to the com-unit since he was done with it. 

Spock tilted his head in thought as he downloaded the information from the tricorder to the computer. The computer beeped as it consolidated the data for Spock. “What would you consider as an alternative?” Spock promptly put everything into his own PADD. 

“Well, we can go and enjoy the view from one of the observation rooms,” said Jim, thoughtfully. “I‘m feeling kind of sick and tired of being in the room.” They had been spending several hours every day in Spock’s rooms, even without being asleep. He wanted to spend some time relaxing elsewhere just for a change of pace. The Cromtician planet, as great as it was to have fresh air and sunshine, had been duty. He had still had to be alert. “There‘s also the recreation rooms, though they‘ll probably be more noisy than the observation room.”

“An observation room would be more in keeping with the theme of a quiet evening,” said Spock, solemnly. 

Jim grinned. “That‘s true. We can visit the Rec rooms later. There are some very interesting games there.” He was suddenly struck by the appealing image of getting Spock to play with the air hockey table, or any of the other games that Spock - older Spock - had declared to be illogical. 

The only kind of games that Jim had ever seen Spock touch had been the chess sets. He had a feeling that Spock would enjoy pool, it being mostly about figuring out vectors and applied forces. Jim was pretty certain that he could get Spock to like it but only if he tried it first. The chance at getting to change Spock’s mind about those games made Jim damn near bounce in excitement. He’d have to add that to the plans of things to do with Spock in future days. Jim had never been able to convince his first officer to play anything other than 3-D chess with him so he looked forward to this with probably too much glee.

They found the nearest empty observation lounge on the same deck as the officers quarters, so they didn’t have far to go. 

Jim opened up the door, marking the room to be set to private. Spock walked past him and headed straight to the lounge that faced the wide windows. 

The view through the plastic aluminum wide panes was gorgeous. 

The planet Cromtic was glowing white around the edges were the light of the sun hit the atmosphere. Vivid green covered a lot of the land, small numerous bodies of blue water were scattered everywhere. The planet was large and wide, framed by the black of space and far off stars.

It was a very beautiful planet, made more so because there was hardly any technology floating above it to mar the view, unlike the Earth that was ringed with various kinds of man-made satellites. Cromticians deliberately set out to minimize the impact they had on their natural space and so their planet was lovely.

Jim silently changed the control settings of the lounge to a higher temperature setting. Not as high as the temperature in Spock’s room, but higher than the rest of the ship. This way they would both be comfortable and Jim wouldn’t have to take another shower before heading off to bed. 

Spock sat down on the long couch right in front of the windows. He set down his PADD and ‘The Adventures of Tom Sawyer’ right next to him. 

Jim watched with interest as Spock was drawn to the book more than he was to his PADD. He was a little bit surprised. Jim thought for certain that Spock would be going through the data that he had collected first, but then he reconsidered. After all the story, that book had sentimental value, though Spock would deny any such thing. 

_It’s the closest that he can get to his mother, right now. As far as he knows._ Jim thought, feeling his stomach tighten uncomfortably at the thought. _The memories he has of her reading the story to him are all he has._

Jim sat next to Spock on the couch as he considered him and his slightly hunched shoulders. It was such a slight action that it would not have meant a thing in a human, but in Spock? It was significant. So, Jim put the PADD down on a nearby low table. 

He could always read those articles later.

“Hey, read to me?” asked Jim, gently.

Spock looked up at Jim. “I would need to start from the beginning in order to progress through the story in the most logical manner.”

“Nah, don‘t bother, you can start off from where you are,” said Jim, with a smile. “I do know the story, you know. You don’t have to backtrack.”

Spock nodded in acceptance.

Jim leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes as Spock’s solemn voice began reading one of Jim’s favorite scenes, where Tom Sawyer manages to convince a bunch of kids that his chore of white-washing fences was the most fun to be had by being a sneaky bastard.  
*-*-*-*

Jim had let Spock read him a few chapters before making him stop when the boy’s voice started to become hoarse. More importantly, to Jim‘s peace of mind, Spock no longer had that slump to his shoulders that had so disturbed him. Jim felt content in letting the boy continue to read the rest of the story in silence.

Jim focused on his PADD. He’d promised Sarek that he would keep him appraised of Spock’s condition, so he wrote him a quick evaluation of Spock’s day. Sarek should get it with the clump of reports that would be sent along the next communications packet to Starfleet Command. Spock’s health was good, and he’d gotten past the return of T’Pring’s memories with minimal fuss. Jim kept the letter short and to the point. 

Really, the less that he wrote to Sarek the less he felt like an idiot. 

The next letter that Jim wrote was to Pike in respond to one he‘d written. Pike had not written an official letter as a Starfleet admiral questioning one of his subordinates but something far more personal.

Christopher Pike had been Spock’s superior officer for far longer than Jim had even known the admiral. He and Spock kept in touch though Jim was now the captain of the Enterprise. Pike had been rather concerned for Spock once the news of what had happened to him had reached his office. He’d written to Jim asking him how Spock was, really. Jim had only seen the letter once he‘d checked his personal messages in the com-unit. Pike had wanted to know more than the brief synopsis about the situation that Jim had sent along to Starfleet Command once it had been clear that he wouldn’t be able to get away without letting them know about Spock’s age regression.

Jim’s response was a lot lighter in tone compared how he’d responded to Sarek. He’d even made a note to add an attachment of Spock in the starship footie pajamas. He knew that Pike would get a kick out of it. And the picture would also go a long way to letting Pike know that Spock was fine. Sure, he was a lot smaller than he used to be but he was in perfect health, getting older all the time and still completely and thoroughly Spock.

It was with a smile that Jim closed the letter down and opened up a new page. 

This one, he found even easier to begin. 

Once, he thought that it was really odd that he had such a connection to the much older alternate Spock. Even with the explanation of how the mind meld had worked - one that he got much later once there was time to actually get things explained - Jim found it very disconcerting at the depth of affection and respect in which the man regarded him. The soft delight that suffused that old wrinkled face whenever they interacted was more intimidating than the stiff-faced challenge he got from the younger Spock - at least before his friendship with him had grown.

One Spock, Jim didn’t want to disappoint, and the other he had fun driving up the fucking wall. In a completely Vulcan way, of course. Jim had only gotten Spock to snap that one time and while he didn’t actually want to do it again it was just fun to push him to that edge.

Jim wrote the letter slowly, simply calling the man Spock. Jim asked him how he was, how the new Vulcan colony was getting along, how many more buildings had gone up and how he was dealing with a father that was actually younger than him.

He admitted that he got a huge kick out of asking this with every letter because he found the idea pretty hilarious.

He wrote about the interesting missions that the Enterprise had gone on since the last time Jim had written to him. It had been about a month, so there was plenty to write about. He told him about the woman with green bat-like wings that had flirted with Bones at their stop at Space Base 23. It had been about the only positive thing to come out of that base because Jim thought it had been hilarious that Bones had kept turning redder and redder from whatever she’s been whispering into his ear. 

Well, that and she had barely topped four and half-feet and had all but carried Bones away over her shoulder. It had taken Jim hours to stop laughing about it. 

Jim wrote about his crew. A crew which this Spock had also known, because he’d expressed interesting in wanting to learn about them again. Jim glossed over the whole spear incident. He really didn’t want to get another lecture about being careful from Spock. Any version of Spock. He’d already had it twice. Three times would just be pushing it.

Jim wrote to him about how his Spock was now a kid and everything that had happened since. It took a while to write all those details. He did get a kick out of gently teasing the old man on how he made a adorable child. 

Jim then got to the real reason as to why he was writing the letter. Jim asked that Spock how he had dealt with being the first human-Vulcan hybrid and how others had treated him for it.

He needed to know, or Jim probably wouldn’t be bothering to ask. It was a pretty personal question. Before Spock had been turned into a kid Jim had no idea that his childhood had been difficult. And now that he knew, he wished that he had a way to help the kid deal with it. 

Spock - kid version - was quickly approaching that age when the perceptions of society grew ever more important. At least, it was for humans and from what Jim had gleaned from the articles he’d been reading, Vulcan adolescence was similar in that respect. It was just about the only thing that was. There just weren’t that many papers written on human-Vulcan hybrids, so Jim told him that he was the only expert around and could use any advice he could give him. Anything that Spock could tell him, any pearl of wisdom, or any insight.

He wrapped up the letter by reminding him that they’d be passing by the Vulcan colony in a couple of months. Jim looked forward to seeing him then. 

Jim looked up from his PADD to see that Spock was gazing down at Cromtic, a faraway look in his dark eyes. 

“A penny for your thoughts?” asked Jim, lightly elbowing the boy. 

Spock blinked and looked up at him. Jim smiled at him affectionately. 

“My mother has a similar saying,” said Spock, his brow furrowing. 

“It‘s a pretty popular one, at least in countries with a strong English influence,” explained Jim. 

Spock still looked puzzled. “Yet there is no longer such a currency on Earth.”

Jim gave him a look. “Sayings don’t normally stick to logic, _and_ you‘re avoiding the question.”

Spock blinked once. Then he said slowly, “I was mentally examining memories that have return to my conscious recall.”

“Oh?” asked Jim. “What are they about?”

For the first time ever, Spock didn’t look to Jim’s eyes like he wanted to talk about it. Whatever he had just remembered, Spock didn’t want to share it. And from the flattened line of his mouth, Jim was pretty certain that he wouldn’t be able to talk him into it. 

It made him feel odd. And it made Jim realize how quickly he’d gotten used to how easily this version of Spock _shared_ what was going on his head. The adult Spock needed every nugget of personal information pried out of him with tenacity and diamond tipped mining equipment. It seemed that Spock had finally hit the age where the habit had started, because it was clear to Jim that Spock didn’t want to talk about whatever was bothering him. 

It made Jim wonder at how personal that memory had to be. How full of emotion to cause Spock’s taught Vulcan reticent to snap into place.

“You know,” continued Jim, going on a hunch. “I was just writing a letter to your father.”

Spock’s shoulders tensed, but otherwise his expression did not change. 

“Why don‘t you write to him too?” suggested Jim. He deliberately opened up the letter he’d written to Sarek. Jim then handed his PADD to Spock. “See? I was telling him how you were. Why don‘t you write a letter to him about the Cromticians and the data that you gathered?”

Spock quietly agreed and picked up his own PADD to write to his father. 

He couldn’t _make_ the kid talk to him, although he really, really wished that he could.  
*-*-*-*

Surprisingly - at least in Jim‘s opinion - their quiet evening remained quiet for the rest of the night. Jim’s niggling worry aside, whatever was weighing on Spock‘s mind didn‘t seem to be violently traumatic. No repeats of the incidents with T‘Pring‘s memories. Jim would've felt better about the whole thing if he had some clue about what was going on in the boy‘s head. 

As it is he kept a more vigilant eye on Spock for the rest of the night than he had been doing since the kid passed nine years old. 

Not that it turned out to be necessary. After writing his letter, the kid had moved on to his data and after a few more hours of enjoying the view of the observation lounge they’d called it a night and headed off to bed. 

Jim hadn’t been able to fall asleep right away, partially from straining his ears in the dark room to listen if Spock had any nightmares and partially because he kept thinking about how quickly Spock was growing. 

Spock didn’t have any nightmares. 

When Jim woke up the next day he was fairly drowsy all through a shower. And even into the breakfast of waffles, plied high with berries and whip cream which failed to give him energy. That made him sulky because he’d wanted the sugar rush. So he was clutching two thermos mugs of coffee as Spock and he walked off the turbolift and into Main Engineering. 

The extra mug was for Scotty. Jim knew his chief engineering and getting him away from the engines when he thought that they needed his personal attention was like expecting Bones to leave a patient that needed medical attention. 

Not gonna happen. 

So Jim rather thought he’d appreciate the caffeine jolt.

Spock followed at his side as they wandered over to Scotty‘s office since Scotty was more likely to be found around there because that‘s where all his tools were kept. Spock was wearing larger version of the overalls and long sleeved shirt mix that he’d developed a taste for, and holding his PADD in his arms while the tricorder hung at his side. 

“Hey, Scotty,” called Jim, as he saw the back of his chief engineer as he conversed with one of his engineering officers.

Scotty looked up from a PADD that a stiff ensign was waiting to get back from him. 

“Good mornin‘, Captain Kirk. Laddie,” said Scotty, nodding to Jim and Spock. 

“Good morning, Mr. Scott,” said Spock, solemnly. 

Jim listened with interest as Scotty gave the PADD back to the engineering ensign. “Not bad, lad. Ye only miscalculated the matter/antimatter mix by 0.042 percent.”

The young ensign expression went from stiff to crestfallen before turning pink in embarrassment. 

Scotty patted the ensign on the back with vigor enough to make the young man stagger. “Within that margin ye would only ‘ave blown out the nacelles instead of the whole ship!” said Scotty cheerfully. “It could ‘ave been worse at least the warp core would ‘ave stayed intact. Redo the calculations, Ensign Peterson. Remember, with no help from the computer!”

The ensign nodded and went off his way. Jim watched as the slump in his shoulders straightened and new determination quickened the ensign’s pace. 

Jim grinned, pleased that his spirit was still up.

Jim turned back to Scotty and raised his eyebrows with interest. “You‘re in a good mood.” Normally, Scotty would have yelled at his engineering minion a hellavu lot more for that kind of mistake, even if most people normally didn’t have such a low margin of error when doing those sorts of complicated equations by hand.

“Aye, Captain,” said Scotty, with a beaming smile. “I can not wait to restore the engines and ‘ave our lady back on her feet.”

Scotty’s excitement was infections and Jim bounced in place.

“Is it possible for me to attempt the matter/antimatter matrix equations on my own?” asked Spock, with a head tilt.

“Of course, laddie!” said Scotty, not even a little flicker of doubt in his face that Spock could solve them. “Everyone should learn how. Ye never know when an emergency will knock out the computers.”

Jim agreed with this wholeheartedly, especially out of his engineers whose whole job it was to keep an eye on equipment, like the computers.

Scotty took Spock’s PADD and as he typed he lectured, “The matter/antimatter mix equation varies dependin’ on the engine of the ship. A starship like the Enterprise has higher tolerances for stress from the warp cores ‘cause of the newer materials involved in its construction.”

Spock listened in fascination. Jim watched him in turn.

“Any changes done by the engineerin’ department to the engine can also change the margin of error of the mix of matter to antimatter,” continued Scotty. “The Enterprise has a pretty high tolerance of 0.0324 percent.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. He asked, “Yet the ensign was close to this margin and still produced an equation that jeopardized the ship.”

“That is because it is standard operatin’ Starfleet procedure to calculate to is within a margin of error of 0.0108 percent,” answered Scotty. “This is ‘cause all engineers need to be able to calculate the equations for even the oldest of ships on the fleet. Ye never know where ye are goin‘ to end up in Starfleet.” This made Scotty up from the PADD to look around his engine room with pride in his eyes.

“That is logical,” said Spock, his tone shaded with approval.

Scott finished with the PADD and handed it back to Spock. 

Jim bit his lower lip to keep in a chuckle when Spock’s eyes went a little wide around the edges at the level of higher math in his PADD. It didn’t stop Spock though because he was promptly sucked into the equations on the screen, his brow furrowed in such deep concentration that his small slanted eyebrows nearly went horizontal. 

Jim finally handed Scotty the extra mug of coffee. 

Scotty’s eyes lit up. “Thank ye, Captain!”

“Did you even go to sleep last night?” asked Jim, as Scotty swallowed down the coffee like he needed it to live.

“I can sleep when the Enterprise‘s engines are back on line,” said Scotty.

Jim gave Scotty a scolding look but Scotty ignored it and drank more of the coffee.

“My engineerin’ team is getting’ the antimatter out of secure storage right now,” continued Scotty. “It should not take them long to get it down ‘ere and cleared for input into the warp reactor. The dilithium crystals ‘ave been double checked for flaws and ‘ave been cleared.”

“And the containment field?” asked Jim, already knowing the answer from Scotty’s report but wanting to double check.

“Also cleared as perfect workin’ order, Captain,” answered Scotty. “I ’ave had my engineers runnin’ tests on all parts of warp engines.”

“And the engineering crew? Have you managed to run them ragged yet?” teased Jim.

“Not yet,” said Scotty, with a wicked grin. “They still ‘ave to finish the simulations for constructin’ a power couplin’ from old parts. And then, the real fun begins. They will ‘ave to see if they can construct a power couplin‘ on the ship from scratch.”

Jim considered how tricky it had been for Scotty to pull off the replacement part. And now he was asking engineering officers without his level of experience and sheer mechanical talent to pull off a miracle. There had to be an incentive here.

“What do you have in the pot?” asked Jim, with interest. 

“Two bottles of whiskey and an entire week of shore leave at our next stop at the starbase for the team who comes up with the best solution,” said Scotty.

Jim made appreciative noises, and felt a stab of regret that he couldn’t join in the contest. It sounded like a blast to try to win. There were some drawbacks from being the captain. Oh well, there were many more benefits.

“How much time do they have?” asked Jim, absently as an idea began niggling at him. 

“They started yesterday and they ‘ave two weeks,” said Scotty. “They‘ll be scored on ingenuity and time involved in construction.”

“Have you thought about opening the contest up to the science officers to join in?” asked Jim. The science officers still had a lot of free time available even with the ones down on Cromtic. And they wouldn’t be down on the planet for much longer.

Spock looked up from his PADD at the mention of his department. He raised an eyebrow at how Jim and Scotty were grinning at each other. 

“Scientists do come up with some pretty interestin’ solutions to problems,” admitted Scotty. “And my engineers could use the competition.”

“What do you think Spock?” asked Jim. 

Spock tilted his head. “I do believe that the science officers would appreciate the challenge.”

 _The science officers would love it,_ Jim mentally translated.

“Although it would be prudent to make such a contest based on a volunteer basis for them,” continued Spock, “as they also have other duties that have to be completed.”

Jim smiled at this since it was Spock looking after his department in his own way. 

_Scotty’s right. This is going to be fun!_ thought Jim. And he wondered if he could convince Scotty that he and Spock would make perfect judges.


	19. Chapter 19

Scotty was distracted by the arrival of the team of engineers with the antimatter container and left Jim and Spock so that he could supervise. 

“Hey, Spock,” said Jim, tapping Spock‘s slender shoulder. “You, should see this.”

Spock looked up from his PADD and watched the entire process with interest. 

Jim watched him instead since he’d already seen Scotty set up the antimatter/matter reaction before. The extra antimatter had been the only thing that allowed the Enterprise to limp home after using the warp core to escape the black hole that had swallowed the Narada and he‘d insisted on being there when Scotty had fired up the engines.

Scotty was going to be separating a certain amount of antimatter, a tricky process involved using the magnetic shields to control how much was pulled out of the storage container. If any antimatter came in contact with matter there would be an instant explosion. And considering that there was a lot more antimatter within the blast radius then there would be a bigger explosion which would reduce the ship to scattered atoms. 

There was a reason that there weren’t that many people who were certified to handle antimatter. In the Enterprise there were five. One was Scotty, another was Spock, and the other three were members of Scotty’s engineering crew who had gotten the antimatter out of storage in the first place.

The blue glow of the shields brightened Main Engineering perceptively and Spock leaned closer. 

Spock was so absorbed in what he was watching that a lot of the mask he wore to hide his emotions slipped. The fascination Jim could see warmed his chest with a glow of delight. He never failed to get a kick out that subtle expression on Spock’s face. 

It made him realize all over again how utterly perfect Spock’s chosen career was for him. Being an Starfleet officer challenged so much of Spock’s intelligence and gave plenty of tasks that kept him busy. Jim couldn’t image Spock being anything else, anywhere else. Not anymore. 

Hell, even in another universe, Spock had ended up in Starfleet. 

“Captain! Brin’ the laddie in for a closer look!” called Scotty, where he was practically buried in the inner workings of the engines.

Spock barely waited for Jim as he eagerly moved closer. He stopped just out of the way of the engineers that were moving around the warp core. 

Scotty was surrounded by pipes that brought in coolant, and sent out power. He was right before a small opening that glowed with the same blue of the containment shielding. The core of the engine arched high above him. 

It was depressingly dark, in Jim’s opinion.

“Regular matter, the fuel which is goin’ to react to the antimatter, is already in the warp core,” explained Scotty, to Spock though the engineering officers also were attentive to his words. Considering that they knew it well enough to give their own lectures, Jim was very amused and pleased at the level of respect that was accorded to Scotty. 

“That also ‘as to be carefully calculated. Too little and the antimatter does not have enough regular matter to react against,” continued Scotty. 

Spock looked back at the equations on his PADD. “Oh, I believe that I understand,” he said thoughtfully. “Because the containment shields control the antimatter the amount of output energy directly correlates with the amount of regular matter that goes into the engine core.”

Scotty gave him a big grin. “Ye got it, laddie! That is were a lot of people miscalculate. They are so concerned with the antimatter since it‘s so bloody dangerous that they are not so careful with the regular fuel. But that can be just as dangerous. Too little matter will drop the ship out of warp without warnin‘. The stress to the ship can be severe causing micro-fractures through the infrastructure.”

Spock nodded and made a note in his PADD.

Scotty called out to his engineers. They moved the antimatter container away so that Scotty would be able to exit without trouble. Then Scotty vanished further into the core. Jim suppressed a wince at the loud banging sounds from inside the warp engine.

“Jim,” asked Spock, hesitantly, “could you explain how to find the answer to this equation?” 

Jim looked over his shoulder and joined Spock in staring at the equations. He quietly murmured the explanations to the formulas for calculating the rate of energy release by the matter/antimatter mix and therefore how much the Enterprise would need to power the warp engines.

Spock listened intently and nodded his understanding when Jim finished talking.

Once he had the formulas to follow, Spock was capable of rapid mental calculations and began writing out the solutions where he’d previously been stuck. He just needed to learn that math in order to find out the right answer. Jim was impressed all over again at how well Spock could run complex math equations in his head. Age certainly wasn’t a factor in that skill, since he pulled it off as an adult as well at his current age of eleven.

“And here we go!” shouted Scotty happily, as he walked out of the engine and he smacked the empty antimatter container. His engineering officers had scattered to intently watch screens that were monitoring the engines.

“Antimatter is mixing in at the standard rate,” said an engineer. 

“Warp core temperature is steadily rising,” said another. “With an estimated time to complete the warp core mix is 1.13 hours.” 

“And the power coupling?” called Scotty, as he carefully began manipulating the computer that was directly hooked up to the warp-core controls. The chamber that held the dilithum crystals began faintly glowing white.

“Holding steady, sir,” said an ensign who was standing closest to Jim and Spock.

Spock walked closer until he was able to read the nearest monitoring screen, though he had to try to look past the body of an engineer. At least, until Jim gave the woman a firm tap on the shoulder. Surprised, then understanding she stood aside enough so that Spock could see everything clearly while still allowing her to do her job.

“Thank you, Ensign,” said Spock, calmly. 

“You‘re welcome, Commander Spock,” she said, clearly torn between the need to keep an eye on the screen and wanting to watch Spock. She caught Jim’s grin and turned back to the screen with straightened shoulders. 

Jim stifled a laugh, amused that Spock’s appeal as a kid among the crew still wasn’t wearing off.

“Mr. Scott, the indicated stress tolerances of the ship are not 0.0324 percent as you indicated,” said Spock, with a head tilt. “According to the readings of the monitor the stress tolerance is 0.0129.”

“Noticed that, did ye?’ asked Scotty, looking back to Spock. “That‘s ‘cause of the temporary replacement power couplin‘ we had to scrounge up. We had to use the old part that had been in storage as a base. And even as much as we ’ave fixed it, it can not take as much as a new part would ‘ave. The tolerances had to be dropped even lower than usual so the energy that travels through the power couplin’ does not tear it apart.”

“It will affect the speed of the ship significantly,” noted Spock, his brow furrowing slightly.

“Aye, laddie,” said Scotty. He tossed Jim a smirk, “The captain will have to rein in his speed demon ways and keep ‘er at warp factor 2.”

“Speed demon?” Jim asked, with a heated glare at Scotty.

“Ye‘re always callin’ for more speed and makin’ me push the poor engines,” Scotty pointed out with humor in his voice. His engineers nodded and murmured their agreement.

Jim glared at them too but they just grinned unrepentantly at their captain.

“No, I don’t,” Jim denied, then he thought about it. _I’ve only done that… three… no.. four… Okay, so maybe Scotty has a point._ It wasn’t good that he couldn’t remember how often he had Scotty pushed the engines when he had only been the captain for six months.

“I had perfectly logical reasons for it,” continued Jim, in response to the Spock’s small raised eyebrow.

“Aye, Captain,” agreed Scotty with a laugh, “but only ‘cause ye‘re chasin‘ somethin‘ or havin‘ some beastie chase us.”

Which, Jim had to admit to himself, pretty much described about 80% of all of the Enterprise’s missions. Higher, if he wanted to add to the whole being chased or chasing theme for the times that they were on a planet and on foot. Hell, the Cromtician mission had been the first that he could remember where they hadn’t ended up in some kind of trouble in too long. Jim considered Spock’s small stature, _at least not the sort that was really dangerous,_ he mentally amended.

“I will attempt to keep my impulses under control,” said Jim, dryly. 

Scotty laughed, walked up to Jim and clapped him on the back. Jim barely kept from staggering. 

“Do not hurt yerself, Captain,” said Scotty. 

Jim snorted and complained in a mock-injured voice. “I can still have you replaced with Keenser.”

Scotty laughed again. “The Enterprise‘s engines will finish powerin‘ up soon.”

Jim nodded, he could already feel the hum of the engines beginning to grow louder. Soon the vibration of them would spread beyond Main Engineering and to all parts of the ship. He hadn’t realized how much he’d internalized the feel of them until they’d been gone. Their restoration was a like a salve on a wound. Jim felt better just knowing that his ship would soon be back - if not to normal - at least close to approaching it. 

“We will be keepin‘ an eye on all parts of the engines,” continued Scotty. “At least until we get to that starbase for a new power couplin‘.”

“Only one more day after this one, Scotty,” said Jim. “I‘ve already given orders for the course to be plotted to the nearest base as well as had Communications call ahead to be sure that there is a replacement for us. And not a shoddy piece of crap.”

Scotty grinned at that.

“Mr. Scott,” Spock interjected, quietly. “I have completed the equations.”

Scotty took his PADD and looked over it slowly. The wide smile that spread across his face made Jim feel smug.

“Now, this is how we calculate the antimatter and matter mixture! Ye calculated to within 0.0034 percent,” said Scotty. “ How do ye feel about givin‘ my lads some lessons in advanced thermo-reactive mathematics?”

“I would have to decline, Mr. Scott,” said Spock, stiffly. He was clearly caught off-guard by the question. “I was only able to resolve the equations due to Jim‘s explanation of the formulas.”

Scotty’s eyebrows went up and he looked at Jim who just gave him an innocent smile. So, he wasn’t blatant with all his skills, sue him. He liked surprising people.

“Better wait until Spock‘s back to his regular age, and ask him then,” said Jim, with a grin. “Assuming he‘ll have enough time.”

Scotty sighed in disappointment. Jim knew he was thinking about how very busy Spock was as the first officer and the science officer. The chances of Spock finding any free time, away from his usual duties and his captain wrangling were pretty low.

Jim patted him on the back. He said, “Thanks for the invite to see the ship getting back on her feet.” He had to admit to himself that while the motivation to come down here had been for Spock to see the engines, he was pretty happy to have been here to see them power up. He was just relieved that the Enterprise wasn’t crippled only to impulse power anymore, everything else about her engines he knew was in good hands with Scotty.

“Ye‘re welcome, Captain,” said Scotty. 

“By the way, Scotty,” Jim said quietly. “I have something I wanted to ask you.”

He lead Scotty away from Spock until they were out of earshot. He saw Spock looking after him with interest before the engineer ensign did something to her monitor that drew his attention back to the screen. 

“It’s about your tribble,” began Jim.

“Aye, what about the critter? It has not gone and multiplied has it?” asked Scotty, with wide alarmed eyes.

“No,” Jim said, shaking his head. “Spock‘s been careful about how he‘s caring it. I was just wondering where you‘d picked it up. And whether you‘d let me get you a replacement.”

“The laddie has gone and become attached, has he?” asked Scotty, with a grin. “Nae, Captain. Ye do not ‘ave to worry about it. I thought the lad would like the tribble. He can keep it.”

“Thanks, Scotty,” said Jim, grinning hard. “He‘s been carrying it nearly everywhere but you know Spock. He would never admit he likes it, after all, ‘become sentimentally attached is a most illogical human trait‘.” He barely managed to keep from adding air quotes. 

Scotty chucked, “Aye, that is Mr. Spock, alright. Anyhow, I bought it off some merchant trader named Jones before they became so well known but since then tribbles ‘ave become popular pets so I should not ‘ave trouble findin’ one again.”

“Alright, Scotty,” said Jim. “Though, I kind of hate to steal your pet away like that.”

“I bought the critter for company,” said Scotty, lowering his voice, “and don‘t tell the lad, but I had also been usin’ it for my transwarp beamin’ experiments before I got exiled for that misfortunate misunderstandin‘ with Archer‘s dog.”

Jim arched his eyebrows.

“Tribbles are surprisin‘ tough,” said Scotty, in explanation. 

“I won‘t tell, Spock,” said Jim, with a laugh. He then asked Scotty about the idea of having Spock and him help in judging the competition. “Though, there‘s a pretty good chance that Spock will be all grown up by then.”

“Havin’ Mr. Spock helpin’ to judge which of their solutions would work the best will make it go faster, even more so if the commander is back to normal,” said Scotty. “Now, Captain, I want to personally go to the nacelle and check to see how it is handlin’ the energy flow. I will feel better if I saw how the power couplin‘ for myself.”

“Alright, and Scotty,” said Jim, as Scotty walking away. “You and your guys did great work with this. Remind me to buy you and your engineers all a few rounds at the starbase when all the work is done.”

Scotty turned back to grin at him over his shoulder, “Ye bet I will, Captain!”

Jim walked back to Spock and instead of finding the boy wrapped up in the technical details of the generated data on the engines was instead staring after Scotty. There was an almost frown tugging down the corners of his mouth. 

“What did you wish to ask, Mr. Scott?” asked Spock, at once as soon as Jim was back at hide. There was a surprising large amount of demand in the kid’s voice. 

Jim shot him a startled glance. “Well…” he said slowly, trying to figure out what had trigged that look in Spock’s eyes. “I wanted to ask him if I could compensate him for the tribble.”

Spock tilted his head. “I do not understand.”

“You‘ve gotten pretty attached to the furball,” Jim explained, trying not to squirm. He hadn’t intended to let Spock find out he’d been trying to get the tribble for him but since the kid looked like he really wanted to know… “And since it‘s pretty attached to you too, I wanted to ask Scotty if he‘d be willing to give it up.”

Spock just stared up at him. His brown eyes were wide. Wider than Jim had seen in a while from the kid. 

“I told him I‘d get him a replacement,” Jim said as he rubbed the back of his neck and fought back a blush. The mute astonishment on Spock’s face made him mentally pat himself in the back. “Scotty said you could have it,” he continued. “So, you don‘t have to worry about having to give it back to him.”

“Vulcans do not worry,” said Spock, a reaction that was practically automatic. It was that reflexive. 

Jim bit his lower lip to fight back grin. 

“I see,” said Spock. The corners of his lips began turning up more and his eyes began doing that pleased gleaming thing again. 

Jim couldn’t resist the smile now.

“What did you think I was asking?” he asked, curious about Spock’s initial reaction. 

The kid straightened up. “It is no longer of consequence,” he said calmly. He nodded his thanks to the ensign who was subtly looking at them from the corners of her eyes.

Bemused, Jim shook his head then asked, “Where would you like to go next?”

“The Science Department. Were you not going to request their input into the contest with Engineering?” Spock reminded him. 

“Yeah, okay. That sounds good,” said Jim, and as they entered the turbolift that would take them to the right level it struck him what Spock’s reaction had been about. 

The kid had been _jealous_.

Jealous of Scotty, of all people. Scotty who hadn’t been doing anything other than talking to him. 

As Jim stared at the double doors of the turbolift, he realized that he had no idea how to feel about it. Other than the urge to run to Bones to ask for his help because apparently the kid’s crush on him was getting worse. He could just hear Bones in his ear telling him that Spock’s attachment to him wasn’t an ailment that he could cure with a hypospray. 

And now, he wondered why Spock hadn’t been reacting against Bones. Jim spent far more time at Bones’ side than he did in talking with Scotty. 

_Maybe, it’s a matter of timing? Or maybe it‘s a side-effect of Spock‘s current age?_ Or maybe because Spock knew that Bones was his best friend he didn’t think of Bones as someone to get jealous over. Jim bit back a groan and made mental note to find Bones during his lunch break and ask for his advice.

They existed the doors of the turbolift and into the level of the Science Department. 

“You know, they‘ll like it more if you asked them if they wanted to join the contest,” Jim pointed out. 

“Very well,” said Spock, his face smoothing into a more controlled expression.  
*-*-*-*

One of the great things about the science officers - in Jim’s opinion - was that he could trust them to keep an eye on Spock as well as finding things to entertain the kid without having to worry that something would explode in his face. 

Well, if it exploded at least it would be a _small_ explosion.

So Jim had no compunction about kicking Lieutenant Hernandez out of his office, which was technically Spock’s office except he’d given it to his second in command of the science officers for his own use. Spock had pointed out that he had no need for two offices as he also had one as the First Officer as well as the Chief Science Officer and keeping them both would be most illogical.

Hernandez had taken the commandeering with good grace. It helped that he’d also been thoroughly distracted by Spock’s explanation of the contest that Engineering was running. He’d asked Jim for an explanation of the specifics and once he had his answers Hernandez spread the information throughout the Science Department. 

Spock had gone along with him with Jim’s encouragement. 

In the office, Jim used the available com-unit to access his personal account to send a message to Bones asking him if he’d meet him for lunch before he opened his professional account to begin reading the reports generated while he’d been sleeping. Frankly, he had been a little surprised that his yeoman hadn’t tracked him down to get them signed off before he remembered that task he’d given Rand the night before. 

Well, at least Rand would have less reason to scowl at him if he got everything done. Jim tried not to feel like his yeoman had finally won in getting him trained into doing his paperwork. His dread of Rand was completely justified.

He lingering the most over Keenser’s update on the planet Cromtic. The lieutenant had finished gathering and copying the last of the schematics and was already in the process of beginning to produce all the components that they would need to complete the aging machine. He added that he noticed that the new shift of science officers had taken to their tasks with fierce determination.

Reading that had made Jim smile. 

The computer beeped to indicate the arrival of a new message into his account. 

Jim frowned when he saw that it was from Rand before he opened it up. 

“Aw,” he said in understanding. It was her response to Starfleet Intelligence’s request for more information. He read it carefully. 

He only got half-way when he realized that he was grinding his teeth and even his short nails were digging furrows into his palms. He forced himself to finish and as soon as he was done, Jim sat back in the chair and swore. He went through every single curse he knew. And even after he ran through the really gruesome Klingon ones - twice! - he didn’t feel any better. 

It seemed that a few of his crew had ended up being attacked when they were at Space Base 23. The targets had been the younger women of his crew. They’d been rescued by security officers, led by Cupcake, purely by chance. Rand wrote that the security of the base hadn’t been much help though they thought the men were linked to Orion slavers. They had no evidence that it wasn’t just drunken pawing that got out of hand. 

Rand thought the attackers had deliberately been set out by the commander of Space Base 23. She pointed out that the connection of the Orion slave trade to the Orion contraband. But that there was no proof of that connection.

Jim, unable to stand the idea that he hadn’t known about this called Rand up.

It took a moment for her to answer. 

“Why didn‘t I know about this?” Jim demanded, once her face was on the screen. 

Rand arched a blonde eyebrow. 

“The attack on my crew!” he clarified, resisting the urge to yell. 

“All reports of the attacks were filed with the Starfleet Security of the space base,” she said quietly. “And then with the Personnel Officer and First Officer.”

“Spock knew about this?” asked Jim.

Rand nodded. “I believe that he considered the matter settled.”

“And so he didn‘t tell me,” grumbled Jim, annoyed. He wished, not for the first time, that Spock was back to his usual but this time so that he could yell at him.

“I think he thought that you would order us to fire on the Space Base 23 if you knew what had happened,” Rand said, wryly.

Jim wasn’t going to disagree with that. He probably would have done exactly that. Once he’d given everyone on it sufficient time to get off of it, of course. 

Hell, he kind of wanted to go back and do exactly that even now.

That the slimeball of a base commander had posed such a threat to his crew, that he tried to grab some of them to sell them into slavery, it was more than Jim could stand. He’d wanted to beat the crap out of the guy before, but now he just wanted to kill him.

 _Which is probably the reason that Spock didn’t tell me,_ Jim realized with a flash of irritation. His reaction wouldn’t have been pretty, even if Spock had kept him from committing homicide. 

“There was no proof,” continued Rand, with a scowl. “But I thought that Starfleet Intelligence could use the information that there may be a stronger link between Base Commander Fox and Orion slavers than they realized. Anyway, sir, the man has connections in the Federation government and we couldn‘t bring him up on charges just because we had a feeling that he was involved in the assaults.”

“What kind of connections?” Jim frowned. 

“He‘s uncle is Ambassador Robert Fox,” said Rand. 

“I didn‘t know that,” said Jim, his frown deepening. Even he'd heard of the ambassador. “Fox is a common last name.”

“Yes, sir. Mr. Spock had me look up any relevant information after I told him of my suspicions,” said Rand. 

“God damn it,” complained Jim. There was one more reason why Spock hadn’t told him. 

Jim sighed. His first officer was usually better about figuring out the diplomatic nuances of any given situation than he was, that was for certain. Political savvy just wasn’t one of those skills that was taught in the Academy so he was still figuring it out. Jim had good instincts when dealing with non-Federation cultures. But trying to be political with his own people? Jim missed things. Fortunately for him, Spock was helping him learn how to finagle that nonsense, slowly but surely he was getting there.

Anyway, if he knew Spock at all, his first officer had probably been waiting to tell him until a time where Jim wouldn't react like a hothead.

“Okay,” sighed Jim. “Thank you for filling in the request, Yeoman.”

“Anything to help get that creep in prison,” she said.

Jim nodded his goodbye but before Rand signed off she told him that the next batch of reports will be ready for his perusal in a couple of hours since he had nearly finished the morning ones. Jim glowered at her professionally cool expression with its hint of smugness and stabbed at the control to cut the intership video connection. 

Even with Rand’s explanation of the events Jim found himself tightening his hands into fists, loosening and then retightening them even as he tried to finish reading the rest of the reports so he gave up on them.

He couldn’t relax. He was just too pissed off. 

Jim wanted to beat the crap out of something and unfortunately the target of his anger was light years away. He could feel the tension settle into his shoulders, the sort that he knew from experience he couldn’t just ignore and hope it went away. He had to work it out of his system.

 _I_ , he decided, _am going to the gym._  
*-*-*-*

It took him a moment to find Spock in the science labs.

The science officers, in their excitement of participating in a contest with Engineering had began making plans and putting together teams of divergent science disciplines. They’d also thoroughly managed to get Spock involved in figuring out how they would proceed. 

And that’s where Jim found him with his small head bent over various PADDs and quietly listening to his officers discuss what sort of materials were possible to replicate and which ones were not, as well as the sort of tools available on the Enterprise. 

“You did remind them that this is all suppose to be a simulation?” asked Jim, as he sat by Spock’s side. “They don’t actually have to make a power coupling for the nacelles in two weeks.”

Spock looked up, and explained, “It would be illogical to proceed without knowing the limitations of materials the Enterprise is capable of producing. Only when a baseline is established can they set forth to push those boundaries and produce an estimation as to what would be needed to manufacture a functioning power coupling.”

“Logical,” said Jim, with a quirk of his lips. Then he rubbed the back of his head. “Listen, Spock. I‘m going to go to the gym for some exercise. You can stick around here if you want.”

Spock tilted his head in consideration but then pulled his PADD from the pile. “That will not be necessary.”

“You‘ll probably be bored,” Jim warned him, as they walked towards the turbolift that would take them to the level with their quarters. Jim wanted to change into his workout clothes. 

“I will not be. The science officers have requested that I participate in their contest and have given me information on the structure of the ship for me to study,” said Spock.

“Are you going to?” asked Jim.

“My memories of more advanced science has not fully returned,” answered Spock, calmly. “I would not be able to contribute in any significant way.”

“It doesn‘t mean you shouldn‘t if you really want to join in,” said Jim, encouragingly.

“I considered it,” said Spock, softly. “Yet once my memories are restored it would give whatever team I joined an unfair advantage. Mr. Scott is not involving himself as a participant.”

Jim felt a burst of pride in his chest. He was impressed and delighted at Spock’s very well reasoned sense of fair play. He was right after all. He didn't think he'd be so selfless at the same age. Spock - any version of Spock - would give the teams an extra edge.

“We could be judges,” said Jim. “Scotty liked the idea. And you can still do _that_ even if your back to your normal age by then.”

Spock considered it thoughtfully. “It would be a good alternative.”

Jim led them out of the turbolift and back to his quarters where he found dug out the usual clothes he wore when working out, sweat pants and a worn shirt. And because he didn’t want Bones cussing him out for popping his knuckles out, Jim also found his bag gloves. He preferred the lighter sparring gloves, but considering that he wasn’t actually going to risk fighting someone when he was in this sort of mood, he’d rather just beat the hell out of bag without having to end up back in medical bay. He had been spending entirely too much time there. 

It took him a moment to change clothes and when he came out he found Spock in front of the bookcase again. He wasn’t looking at the books this time, but at Jim’s collection of personal memorabilia. Spock looked up at Jim’s approach. 

“I do not understand the relevancy of most of these objects,” said Spock. “Nor does there appear to be any logical order to their locations.”

“That‘s because I didn‘t pick them for any reason other than personal reminders,” said Jim.

Spock stiffened. “My apologies, I did not intent-”

“No, Spock,” Jim cut him off, “don‘t apologize. You can ask. If I don‘t want to talk about it I‘ll tell you.”

Spock’s expression was solemn but he nodded slowly in acceptance. 

“Do you want to get anything from your room?” asked Jim, but Spock just declined. 

“Okay,” said Jim, and led them to the turbolift again.


	20. Chapter 20

Spock stayed by Jim‘s side occasionally shooting him a look as Jim began stretching out his arms as they walked along the hallways. Normally, Jim would have waited to warm up at the gym but he didn’t have much patience at the moment and he wanted to cut down the time without risking getting yelled at by Bones for pulling a muscle by skipping the stretching completely. 

Once, they entered the gymnasium, Jim found Spock a place to sit that was out of the way up against a bulkhead and fully clear of any exercising equipment while still leaving him within eyesight. Then Jim went to find a free heavy bag.

He nodded in acknowledgement to those of his crew that said hello. Mostly, everyone was focused on their own workouts, or were busy talking with their workout partner. Off in the furthest corner of the gym on a large mat, a group of tactical specialist where running through hand-to-hand training. If Jim had been in a better state of mind he would have joined them. _Later,_ he told himself.

Jim stretched out his arms again then his neck, back and shoulders until he was satisfied he‘d done enough. Then he clenched his gloved hands into fists and began punching. Jabbing hard, alternating fists but barely making the bag move. The bag was set up to take a beating from beings with stronger than human strength. Even Spock would have had to exert himself to move it.

Jim kept it up. Fast and hard punching until sweat began beading on his brow and his hands began to ache even under the protection of the gloves. He only stopped when sweat landed in his eyes, blinding him for a moment. 

He took a step back, breathing hard. He wiped at his eyes with forearm but all that did was smear it around so Jim pulled the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his brow clear. The cotton quickly absorbed the sweat. As an added bonus, the cool air of the gym against the skin of his chest and abdomen felt good.

Hell, he _felt_ good. The tension and anger had simmered down to nearly nothing. Jim felt less like he was going to lose it. Fighting always made him feel better. Even if he was only fighting against an inanimate object that couldn’t hit back. Jim looked over to where Spock was sitting and gave the kid a grin. 

Even from across the span of the gym, Jim could see the slight darkening of Spock’s cheeks and he had to stifle a laugh. Even disconcerting as he found the kid’s crush on him, seeing Spock blush was still one of the best things ever to come out of his de-aging.

“What in the hell do you think you‘re doing?!” 

Jim jumped what felt like ten feet into the air at Bones’ angry shout.

Everyone paused and turned to stare at the doctor who was standing at the entrance to the gym, his face dark with fury. Quite a few people took involuntary steps back.

Jim didn’t blame them. He kind of wanted to run himself. Jim swallowed down hard. “Hey, Bones,” he said, as cautiously and innocently as he could. He was not going to panic. It wasn’t like Bones would actually kill him. _Make me suffer so I’d wish I was never born, on the other hand… yeah. He can do that._

McCoy stalked in. “Don‘t you ‘hey Bones’ me, James Tiberius Kirk!”

 _All three names, damn. I am in trouble,_ Jim thought with a wince. Not even his mother pulled all three names on him when she got mad. He looked over to see Spock arching an eyebrow at him. Jim nodded and Spock stood up to join them. “How did you even know I was here?” he asked, knowing it was a stupid question but wanting something to distract his best friend.

McCoy ignored the question. “You do know the meaning of _light duties_? In case you need reminding I‘ll explain it to you using small words since they‘re apparently the only ones you understand!” growled McCoy, pointing a finger at Jim‘s chest. “Light duties, as in you don‘t go around pushing your body to the goddamn limit especially without clearing it with your doctor first!”

“You said I‘m nearly ready to be released into fully active duty tomorrow,” Jim pointed out, leaning back a little from the finger.

“The key word being ‘nearly’,” said McCoy, losing a little of that anger yet still managing to look intimidating angry.

“I feel fine, Bones,” said Jim, reassuringly. 

“I have not seen Jim react with pain, or similar manner that would warrant medical attention,” added Spock, calmly as he stood by Jim’s side.

“Neither of you is a doctor,” snapped McCoy, his eyes narrowing. “I‘m going have to run scans just to make sure you haven‘t-”

 _Ah, hell,_ Jim thought.

“Bridge to Captain Kirk. Bridge to Captain Kirk.” Came Uhura’s voice through the intership communications systems. 

“Saved by the bell,” muttered Jim, as he hurried over to the nearest com-unit. “Kirk here, Lieutenant.” 

“Captain Kirk, we‘ve received a message from Starfleet Command. Priority one,” said Uhura, when Jim got a window open to her.

Jim stiffened. That meant that whatever was going on was damned serious. Jim frowned. “What was the message?”

“It is for a conference call directly from Admiral Pike, captain,” said Uhura, calmly. But Jim could see the slight concern in her eyes that she kept professionally out of her voice. “He‘s on line for direct communication.”

_Fuck. This can‘t be good._

“Call together the senior officers to the conference room on Deck 6. Everyone is to be there in five minutes,” said Jim.

“Yes, Captain,” said Uhura.

“Kirk out,” said Jim, as he switched off the com. Then he turned to where Bones and Spock were waiting for him. The scowl on his best friend’s face was still dark and unrelenting. “You‘ll have to yell at me later,” said Jim, cutting off whatever McCoy was planning on saying. “The Enterprise just received a priority call from Admiral Pike.”

That news didn’t make McCoy any happier. “Great,” he said sarcastically. “Just great.”

“Get moving, Bones. We’re meeting in the conference room on Deck 6,” said Jim, as he headed out the door, himself.

“We‘re not done,” said McCoy, firmly as he followed. “I‘m getting your ass in my medical bay as soon as this is done to make sure that you didn‘t damage something. With your luck you‘ll have actually popped those micro-sutures I put in you to hold your insides together.”

Jim nodded, not bothering to put up a fight about it. He was more concerned about the call from Pike. Anyway, Bones had that look in his eyes that meant that nothing, absolutely nothing would stand in him getting his way.

Spock stayed at Jim’s side and within minutes they were heading for the right deck. 

To Jim’s delight, Rand was waiting for him right in front of the conference room, holding in her arms fresh uniform and a towel. 

“Yeoman, I owe you a raise or maybe a fruit basket,” said Jim, as he grabbed the towel that she held out. He quickly wiped his face and every last trace of sweat from his hair. He grabbed the uniform next and pulled it over his work out clothes. 

He couldn’t do anything about how he smelled but at least he could look presentable before the admiral. He ran hand through is hair to try to flatten it out and make it somewhat suitable before Rand handed him a comb.

“Oh yeah, definitely a raise,” continued Jim, running the comb through his hair.

“I’ll take the raise and the fruit basket, sir,” she said, amusement in her cool voice.

Jim had just finished getting his hair to look less like he’d just gone through a wind tunnel when Scotty turned up, followed by Lieutenant Hernandez, Bones, Uhura, Sulu and Cupcake. 

“After this meeting, you and I have got to talk, Cupcake,” said Jim. 

He just rolled his eyes. “The name is Freeman, Moonbeam.”

“Whatever you say, Cupcake,” said Jim. Cupcake just snorted and went into the conference room.

Spock raised an eyebrow at this exchange.

“One of these days, Jim, you‘re going to push that man too far,” said McCoy. “It‘s not exactly a good idea to piss off your chief tactical officer. He‘s the one that comes in to pull your ass out of the fire.”

“We have an understanding,” said Jim dismissively. Before he followed his officers through the doors he turned to Spock. “I‘m afraid that you can‘t come in, Spock. You‘re not cleared yet since you‘re still eleven years old,” he said regretfully. 

“I am 13 years, 1 week and 8 hours old,” corrected Spock. 

Jim blinked then stared at him, startled. _A teenager? He’s a freaking teenager?_ “What happened to twelve?” asked Jim, his voice a little more plaintive than he would have liked. 

“I have aged beyond that age,” said Spock, calmly. 

Jim wondered what the hell had triggered such an huge age jump in him. “Okay, so you‘re thirteen, I‘m afraid that it‘s not old enough. Sorry Spock,” Jim added when the boy’s expression went blanker. “If I think you need to know, I‘ll fill you in. Rand if you could…”

“I‘ll keep an eye on him, sir,” said Rand, with a crisp nod. 

“I am not of the age in which I require adult supervision,” said Spock, his mouth flat. 

“Yeah,” said Jim, “but I‘d feel better if you stuck with Rand.”

“Very well, Jim,” said Spock. He nodded at Rand in acceptance of her guardianship.

“I‘ll see you soon, Spock,” said Jim. He felt a tug of regret at the stiffer spine of Spock’s back as the boy followed Rand down the corridor. Yet, he had no choice. He had no idea of the contents of Pike’s call. Better that he keep Spock out of it until he had all the facts. 

He walked in and sat at the head of the conference table. Jim nodded to Uhura to set up the connection. She pressed a few keys on the computer and the larger screen of the monitor glowed to life. The screen showed the symbol for Starfleet for a moment before switching over to Pike. 

_Admiral Christopher Pike looked good,_ Jim thought. Even better than he had the last time Jim had seen him in person when the Enterprise had left the docking station after having an official ceremony for a ‘maiden’ voyage. Considering that the ship had never had it before the day of Vulcan’s destruction, the Public Relations department of Starfleet Command had set out to give her a great party. It had all been about boosting the morale of the entire Federation. Sending off the heroes of Enterprise with Jim as the captain was good publicity. At least, that was how it had been explained to Jim after he’d complained for the tenth time about having to deal with all the pomp when he really just wanted to sit on his chair and order the ship out into uncharted space.

Admiral Pike had been at that send off too but he certainly hadn’t been sporting the new wheelchair he was sitting in. It was nothing like the chair he’d been riding when he’d gotten out of Starfleet medical or even the last time he‘d gotten in contact with the Enterprise. It was bright with chrome, and carved dark wood gleamed at the sides and it looked like it could go up to a hundred miles an hour with the engine that Jim could see peeking a little over the desk. 

“Nice wheels, Admiral,” said Jim, with a wolf whistle. Pike was still improving even after all these months and every time Jim saw him, he looked that much healthier. Though not necessarily happier. Jim made it a point of trying to get him to smile when they talked.

At his right side, Bones groaned into his hand.

Jim ignored him.

The somber expression that Pike had been wearing slipped away as a bright smile curled up the corners of his mouth and even his eyes sparkled for a moment. 

Jim mentally gave himself a pat on the back.

“Captain Kirk,” said Admiral Pike. “I‘m glad to see that you are in better health as well as learning that your mission to the Cromtic system was a success, but I’m afraid that you’ll have to cut your visit short.”

Jim frowned, his mind racing quickly. 

“We can‘t leave yet!” said McCoy, startling Jim with the fierceness of his protest. “We still have got to put together that aging machine for Spock.” 

“He‘s right, Admiral,” said Jim, quietly. “Lieutenant Keenser is still getting the components together. He and his team are working as fast as they can to get them produced with the help of the Cromticians. Getting the aging machine together won‘t even be done until they’re back on the ship.”

“I‘ve read the reports and I‘m know that time is critical,” said Pike, just as quietly though his face was grim. “But I‘m afraid there‘s a situation that you need to be aware of. The Starfleet Intelligence team that was dispatched to Space Base 23 has been killed. In fact, the entire base as destroyed with an estimated casualty count in the hundreds.”

Sharply indrawn breaths came from various people around the table. Scotty began swearing, his voice low but intense with feeling.

Jim swallowed down hard before he asked harshly, “What happened?”

“According to the last report Intelligence team was able to send out, they found a greater connection between the Base Commander Fox and the Orions then was first suspected,” said Pike. “In fact, they thought that the base commander was in the Orions payroll. The Intelligence team was getting close to finding out the exact nature of that connection. The explosion occurred shortly after.”

“What in the hell could warrant the destruction of an entire Space Base?” asked McCoy, still aghast at idea. 

“One of the theories postulated was that the damaged nacelle part that you got wasn‘t a coincide, that was deliberately planted onto the Enterprise by Fox to damage the ship,” said Pike. 

Scotty’s swearing became louder and switched to a different language altogether. Not even Uhura’s scolding look made him subside. 

“They wanted to get a hold of the Enterprise,” Jim said, interrupting Scotty. Everyone at the table turned to look at him. 

“That‘s what we think too,” agreed Pike. 

“The Enterprise has got the latest technology of the Federation,” Jim reminded his officers. “If the Orions could cripple the ship enough to get aboard her. They would have access to most of it. Even with the security measures in place, if they had enough time they would be able to crack through the passwords, and firewalls.”

“Or they could just sell the whole ship to anyone willing to pay for her,” said Sulu, with a frown. 

“They wouldn‘t get her without a fight,” protested Freeman, with a scowl at this perceived insult to his professional abilities.

“Aye, they could,” denied Scotty, finally breaking off his blue streak. “If the damage was deliberate than they could ’ave calculated it to destroy the warp engine and knock out the life-support. Then all that those bastards would ‘ave need to do was sit tight and wait for us to die before grabbin‘ our lady.”

“Jesus,” whispered McCoy. 

Jim agreed with him then a horrible thought occurred to him. “Uhura, issue an alert to the bridge. Have them scan for ion trails in the system other than our own. If the Orions were waiting for our ship to be damaged then they could be nearby waiting for it.”

“Aye, Captain,” said Uhura, instantly calling the bridge.

“I should be up on the bridge, sir,” said Hernandez, getting to his feet in his urgency. “I can calibrate the sensors to a higher degree of sensitivity than normal. Mr. Spock showed me how.”

“Go,” ordered Jim with a sharp nod and Hernandez left quickly. 

“What about Base Commander Fox?” asked Sulu to Pike. “Did he survive the destruction of the base?”

“If he did I am goin‘ to wrin‘ his neck,” snarled Scotty.

“Breathe, Mr. Scott,” said Jim, his own fists tight under the cover of the table. He kept his expression calm even if that was the last thing he was feeling.

“We have no information if he was able to get off the base in time,” admitted Pike. “In fact, Starfleet Intelligence isn‘t even certain if he or the Orions were the ones that set off that bomb. Or even if the explosion wasn‘t related at all to the investigation.”

“Not likely,” said Jim, dryly. Pike quirked his mouth in agreement.

“There‘s also a fourth option,” said Uhura, as soon as she finished talking to the bridge. “Orion culture does place a strong emphasis on wealth and power. If they are doing this in order to get the technology of the Enterprise then they will have a buyer in place. The buyer could be the one that pushed for such an extreme reaction to being discovered. An Orion would consider such loss of life to be a waste.” Her mouth twisted. “After all, everyone that died could been sold as a slave.”

“That is a good analysis, Lieutenant,” said Pike. “And one, no doubt, which will be backed up by the Orion cultural specialists. But that still leaves us with not knowing who could be their buyer. Intelligence is sending out agents to pick up more information from the Orions. Until then, you have on your ship the only piece of evidence that ties the Orions to the space base, Fox and possibly the explosion.”

“And it‘s going to make us that more of a target,” said Jim.

“Which is why your orders are head to the Starbase 42,” said Pike. “There‘s a team from Intelligence heading there right now. They‘ll take the Orion part from you for further analysis. Hopefully, they‘ll be able to find a way to trace how it got into our space. It‘s the only lead we have.”

Scotty frowned hard. “Does Starbase 42 have the resources to outfit the ship with a new power conduit part? The one we have will not hold up for long.”

“Even less so if we end up having to fight,” said Sulu. “We‘re already crippled in how fast the ship can travel. Combat maneuvers may be too much.”

“The starbase is in the system of the planet Cygnet XIV. They have the faculties for starship maintenance,” said Pike. “They‘re a trust-worthy people. And we‘ve sent alert to nearby ships should you call for assistance. They‘ll be there as fast as they can.”

 _Which could still be too late,_ Jim thought, grimly. Space battles sometimes happened too quickly to get assistance from the rest of the fleet.

“It‘ll add a couple more days of travel compared to the original plan,” said Sulu, as he pulled out a PADD. He was frowning at it. “The course that we‘d originally plotted would have taken us to a much closer starbase. Starbase 42 is deeper into Federation territory. It‘s also a lot closer to Orion space.”

“Is it a good idea to get closer to them if they‘re trying to get the Enterprise?” asked McCoy, as he leaned over Sulu‘s shoulder to stare at his readouts. “That’s crazy! It‘s practically asking for them to come and get us!”

“Exactly what we‘re hoping for, Doctor McCoy,” said Pike. 

There was a startled moment of silence from everyone at the table.

“You want us to draw the Orions out?” asked Jim, thoughtfully. 

“Or at the very least we want to use your presence to put pressure on them,” said Pike. “It will make it easier for the Intelligence team to discover what is going on. If they happen to come after you then getting answers becomes that much easier.”

Jim was intrigued by the idea. “We could make the ship a deliberate target.”

His officers turned to look at him. 

“What do you have in mind, Captain?” asked Pike, leaning forward.

“I doubt that the Orions know we‘ve caught the damaged part,” explained Jim, “and they sure as hell couldn‘t have predicted that Scotty would be able to put together a temporary replacement. So, if they are monitoring us we can use that against them. They’ll expect an explosion from the ship at any time, and for us to be very damaged when it happens. And if they come after us when we just appear to be crippled…”

“We can take them down,” said Freeman, eagerly.

“They won‘t know why we‘ll be stopping by Starbase 42,” said Sulu. 

“The messages we sent out to the ships before how likely is it that they would have intercepted them?” Jim asked Uhura.

“The warnings about getting parts from Space Base 23 went along the standard channels but they were encrypted with the latest Starfleet codes,” answered Uhura. “It’s highly unlikely they’ll have access to the decryption codes. The switch only occurred last week.”

“Scotty? How realistic of an explosion can we make that will fool anyone that comes around?” asked Jim. 

“It will be simple enough,” said Scotty. “Especially if we can pick up a few things from the starbase or the planet.” 

“Make a shopping list, Scotty and I‘ll get it for you,” said Jim.

“Good,” said Pike. “How quickly can you leave the Cromtic system?”

“Within a couple hours, Admiral,” said Jim, with a look at Scotty. Scotty nodded in agreement.

“What about Spock‘s aging machine?” asked Uhura, worried. 

“I can concentrate on helping Keenser when he returns to the ship, lass,” said Scotty. “There should not be that much of a loss in production, no more than a couple days.”

“Keenser‘s made a point of getting copies of all the schematics,” said Jim, remembering the fact from the reports. “So if there‘s an error somewhere you can refer to them.”

“And I‘m also available if there was a mistranslation,” Uhura told Scotty.

Scotty nodded and turned to Jim, “Any planet with the ability to provide maintenance to a starship will ‘ave the technology to produce any components for the machine, so they should be of ‘elp.” 

“And we can always call the Cromticians, if we need to,” Jim reminded them.

“Yes, sir,” said Uhura, her shoulders relaxing.

“Get a plan together and send us the report,” said Pike. “Be safe, Enterprise. Pike, out.” The large monitor switched over to the Starfleet insignia before fading to black.

“Sulu, I want you at the pilot seat when we head out,” said Jim. Sulu nodded. “Scotty, do you think you can leave the ship and go down to the plane to help Lieutenant Keenser?”

“Aye, Captain,” said Scotty, standing up and heading out. Eager to get the job done.

“I’ll need a plan of defense and attack if we end up getting boarded, Cupcake,” said Jim, drumming his fingers against the tabletop. He wished sharply that Spock was back to normal to give him his input about the situation. 

“Yes, sir,” said Freeman, for once not grumbling against his nickname. 

“Bones,” Jim began. 

“I know - get the medical bay ready. Teach your grandmother to suck eggs,” said McCoy, and he also headed out. “Take a shower before you come down to the medical bay. You stink.”

Jim grinned before he turned to Uhura. “Lieutenant, I‘ll need you to keep an ear open to hear if there‘s an chatter about the Orions or any word about Fox. I don‘t think that the bastard’s dead.”

“Cockroaches don‘t die easily,” agreed Uhura, as she got up. 

The entire conference room emptied out until only Cupcake and Jim were left. 

“You wanted to talk to me?” asked Freeman. 

Jim nodded, his expression sober. “I know about the attacks against the crew on the space base.”

“Hrm,” said Freeman. “I wondered how long it would take you to find out.”

Jim gave him an annoyed look. “Never mind that. What I want to do is to start implementing greater training in hand to hand for the crew. Other than the security department none of the other crew have much training beyond that what was required at the Academy.”

Freeman smiled. “Good. Some of the crew have already asked for more training but getting more of them to come for additional training would better.”

“Perfect,” said Jim. “You can add my name to the list of instructors for the training.”

“Commander Spock would be better,” said Freeman, smirking. “He kicks your ass.”

“You‘re dismissed, Cupcake,” grumbled Jim. 

“Aye, aye, Moonbeam,” said Freeman, as he left the grin still on his face. 

Jim sulked before he stood up to head to his quarters. He wanted to take a shower before he tracked down where Rand had taken Spock because Bones was right. He smelled to high heaven.


	21. Chapter 21

When Jim got out of the shower he had the computer find out where Rand and Spock were located. 

When he saw where they were at the botanical garden he decided that he could go visit Bones for those scans that he wanted to run without having to drag the kid along. Spock had already visited med-bay more times than he cared to think about. Jim could go on his own and not inflict another visit on him. Anyway, with the sheer number of plants from various planets that the garden held it would take Spock some time to scan it thoroughly.

So Jim grabbed a fresh uniform and went to the medical bay. If he didn’t then Bones would find a way to make him suffer. And he didn’t feel like having to keep an eye out for a hypospray wielding best friend that could attack at any moment.

He found the sick bay to be running on more energy than the last time he’d been there. Nurses and doctors were moving back and forth double-checking the status of their medicines, replicating anything that was needed and running diagnostics on their equipment. Clearly, Bones had passed on the knowledge that the ship was under more danger than they’d been expecting from the mission to Cromtic. 

Their preparedness, Jim didn’t doubt, would be reflected across the ship in every department. It made Jim satisfied that the professionalism of his crew. Should the ship face any attack before arriving at Starbase 42 then his people would not be caught off-guard.

“Get your ass on the bio-bed,” grumbled McCoy, once he caught sight of Jim loitering by the entrance. 

Jim rolled his eyes but obeyed. He felt just fine and he doubted that the scans would reveal anything was wrong with him. Which reminded him -

“Bones, if the scans clear me then you‘ll need to release me for active duty,” said Jim, firmly as Bones began running his scans with a medical tricorder.

“Jim, are you kidding me?” groaned McCoy before he shot Jim a look of exasperation. “You still have two more days before I said I’d do that.”

“Not anymore,” said Jim, giving his friend a serious look. “We‘re leaving the system in little over an hour at 1800 and I need to be sitting on that captain‘s chair when we do.”

McCoy’s frown grew deeper. 

“I wouldn‘t be asking if we had Spock back to normal but we don‘t,” continued Jim, quietly. “If the Orions attack us than I will be on the bridge, with or without being fully reinstated. I‘d rather do it by the book, though.”

McCoy sighed. “Damn it. I hate it when you talk sense but I‘d rather have you there than Chekov, even if he is a brilliant kid.”

Jim snorted in amusement. Even after all these months, Bones still had issues with the teenager. Chekov, fortunately, took it with good humor and enjoyed finding opportunities to pull Bones’ leg.

Jim thoroughly approved.

While McCoy ran his scans, Jim waited silently even when McCoy decided to run them twice. He didn’t protest. He was too lost in thought. 

“Okay, spit it out,” demanded McCoy loudly, startling Jim and making the bio-bed beep.

“What?” asked Jim, glaring. 

“You‘re never this quiet when I‘m scanning you unless you‘re dying, reading reports that Rand brings you, or plotting something,” said McCoy, with narrowed eyes. “You‘re not bleeding on me and you don‘t have a PADD, so what the hell is it?”

“Bones, you‘re getting entirely too suspicious in your old age,” said Jim. 

McCoy just raised an eyebrow at him. 

Jim grimaced and admitted, “Okay, okay. I‘m thinking about Spock.”

“Why am I not surprised?” asked McCoy, as he rolled his eyes. Then he smirked.

Jim ignored this and continued soberly. “The ship is facing more danger than I thought we would… he‘s only thirteen, Bones.”

“What are you thinking Jim?” asked McCoy, his smirk slipping away. 

“I‘m thinking of sending him to Sarek as soon as we dock at the starbase,” Jim sighed. 

McCoy’s eyes went wide. 

Jim quirked his mouth humorlessly at managing to surprise this man who knew him so well and explained himself. “He‘s a kid, Bones. And we‘re going to be deliberately turning the ship into a big target. So many of the crew are going to be in danger even if everything goes perfectly according to how we‘ll plan it. Those men and women will be risking their lives and _they_ are trained to deal with that danger to survive to the best of their ability. Spock doesn’t have those memories back. How can I justify putting the kid under that kind of threat when I could easily send him somewhere safe?” Jim rubbed the back of his neck. “Simple answer: I can‘t.”

“I‘m not going to disagree with you,” said McCoy, after a moment. “If it was my little girl…” He shook his head. “I would have asked for leave and headed back to Earth on the first day. Space is damned dangerous.”

“If I didn‘t need you, I‘d sent you with him,” said Jim. He trusted Bones the most and he was also the only other person that Spock had spent the most time with on the ship. But Bones was too good a doctor for Jim to justify keeping his skills from helping his crew especially when they were heading into a situation were those skills would be badly needed. “I‘m thinking of sending Rand.”

“She‘s a good choice,” agreed McCoy. “He knows her and she‘ll be able to protect him.”

Jim agreed with a nod. His yeoman would _hurt_ anyone who so much as looked as Spock funny, of that Jim had no doubt, which is why she was his second pick right after his best friend. 

“But Jim,” continued McCoy, “you still have a few days before the ship arrives at the starbase. You could go the other way and try to do whatever you could to age him up.”

“The aging machine wouldn‘t be ready for another week, at least. And that isn‘t fast enough for me to risk putting Spock in danger,” Jim pointed out.

McCoy rolled his eyes again. “That‘s not what I meant. The kid has a crush on you. Take him out on a date. That’s bound to cheer him up.”

Jim’s eyes felt as huge looked at his friend, utterly startled. “A date?” he squeaked. He cleared his throat. “He‘s thirteen! I can‘t do that!”

“Jesus, Jim, I meant a nice innocent date,” complained McCoy. He gave Jim an annoyed look before he snorted. “Okay, I forgot I’m talking to mister know-’em-one-day-and-sleep-with-’em-that-night.”

Jim flushed red and rubbed the back of his neck. “I‘ll think about it,” he mumbled. Though, the idea was disturbing, maybe if Spock was actually out of his teens.

McCoy eyed him shrewdly. “Being more proactive about making the kid happy is probably the best way to go until the aging machine is up and going. Anyway, don’t you just have to age him up until he turns seventeen years old?”

Jim frowned in puzzlement. “Where‘d you get seventeen from?”

“Chekov. If that kid can face the same dangers then so can Spock at the same age,” McCoy pointed out. 

“I don‘t think Spock joined Starfleet at that age,” said Jim, trying to remember what age exactly Spock signed up. It had been a few months since he’d read Spock’s personal dossier but he thought that it hadn’t been until he’d been eighteen, or was it nineteen? He’d have to double check.

“And that makes a difference?” asked McCoy. 

“It does if he doesn‘t remember why he‘s willing to put his life on the line for the Federation. Until he gets that back he is strictly a civilian,” said Jim. He did consider it. “But it’s a good idea though,” he admitted reluctantly. “Especially since Spock doesn‘t actually want to use the aging machine.”

McCoy went back to smirking.

“You know, when Spock is back to his normal age, I‘ll tell him that the date was your idea,” said Jim, annoyed. 

Abruptly, McCoy stopped grinning. 

Jim smiled smugly.

“Oh, get the hell out of my med-bay,” grumbled McCoy. 

Jim happily jumped off the bio-bed. “And don‘t forget to clear me.”

“I‘ll have the paperwork in the system in the next ten minutes,” said McCoy, waving at him dismissively. 

Jim nodded back and headed out to find Spock.   
*-*-*-*

Jim passed through the double doors that led into the botanical garden. It was a wide space, one of the largest in the ship that wasn’t any of the cargo holds or the engineering bay.

In the original blue prints it had been a bowling alley. In fact, it had still been one during the maiden voyage and fight against Nero. The anomaly created by the red matter had caused infrastructure damage to the entire ship and had destroyed the bowling alley. Instead of just fixing it Jim had decided to replace with something else. 

Sulu had been the one with the bright idea of turning it into a garden. 

The garden had practical applications for scientists with specialties in xenobotany as well as providing a positive psychological boost to the rest of the crew. It was a piece of home, filled not only with Earth plants but also with vegetation from nearly every planet in the Federation. It was used as a park, for picnics, for meditations, for dates and for so many other applications that a bowling alley just didn’t fulfill. 

And now it was providing a perfect distraction to a teenage Vulcan.

Spock was standing before some Andorian ice flowers, staying just far enough away that the climate control cooling that space wasn’t hitting him. He was so busy looking at the reading of his tricorder that he didn’t look up when Jim walked in.

Yeoman Rand was sitting down near him. Her boots were off and she was wiggling her bare toes into the grass with a small blissful smile.

 _And for that alone the garden is worth it,_ Jim thought, unable to help smiling at them both. 

“Captain,” called Rand in acknowledgement of his presence. 

Spock quickly turned. “Jim.” 

Jim could see the muscles in Spock’s shoulders relaxing and a twitch at the corners of his mouth that was nearly a smile. He answered back, “Hey, Spock. Rand.”

Rand tugged her boots on and stood up. Spock walked over to Jim. 

“The Enterprise is heading out of the Cromtic system in about an hour at 1800,” said Jim, to them both. 

Rand’s blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Then I should get back to my duties. Reports are bound to be stacking up.”

“There‘s no rush,” Jim said hastily. 

“There _won‘t_ be because they will be completed on time,” agreed Rand, with an entirely too determined tone of voice.

Jim suppressed a wince. 

“By your leave, Captain. Commander,” continued Rand, with a nod to Jim and Spock before she strode out of the garden. 

“I take it that the message from Starfleet is the cause as to why the Enterprise is now scheduled to leave the star system?” asked Spock, calmly. 

Jim nodded. “Yeah.” He sat down on the grass where Rand had been previously sitting. 

Without having to be asked, Spock sat down next to him. Jim eyed him carefully, feeling a little startled by how much bigger Spock was compared to how small he’d been just last night. His head already came up to Jim’s chest. Another few more years of age jumping and he would be shooting up past Jim’s height. 

Jim quickly filled him in the situation with the destruction of the space base and the danger that the ship was in. 

It made Spock thoughtful, quiet and paler than usual. 

Jim soberly regarded his reaction to this news. He felt a stab of guilt about pushing this on the kid. It made him wonder if he’d been right in his decision to tell Spock the truth of his real age all that long ago. If maybe it would have been better to treat him like he’d always been a child the entire time. To let him keep that measure of innocence just a bit longer.

But then, he thought of how he’d react under such circumstances. Of the measure of fear he would have felt to be among strangers, on a starship and so far away from everything he knew. Even for a Vulcan child such a situation would be terrifying. 

At least with the truth, Spock had something to hold on to. 

“Hey, how have you liked the garden?” asked Jim, bringing the conversation back to something less somber. 

“There are a surprising number of specimens here,” said Spock, looking more energetic. “I had not expected to find Andorian vegetation as well as a Vulcan mint plant in the same location considering their different natural environments.”

“Yeah, that was tricky figuring it out,” said Jim, cheerfully. “The science department was behind a lot of it actually. The botanists enjoyed figuring out which plants would work together and which one would survive best on a starship. The calculations for the micro-shielding to create the miniature climates, alone, took several days for the mathematicians to get right.” He didn’t mention that the engineering department’s energies had been spent on putting the ship together after the structural damage it had suffered.

“I do have an inquiry,” said Spock.

“What is it?” asked Jim. 

“Why are there several Earth arboreal specimens which average about 11.4 inches in height?” asked Spock, with an arched eyebrow. “They are not immature according to the readings from the tricorder yet their size is inconsistent with the data retrieved from the computer.”

Jim blinked. “Oh! You mean the bonsai trees!”

Spock tilted his head in interest. 

“Those belong to the Bonsai Club run by Sulu,” said Jim. “It‘s a form of art.”

“They are aesthetically pleasing,” admitted Spock.

“You‘ll have to ask Sulu about them,” said Jim. “I‘m not a member and I only have a vague idea how they work.”

Spock nodded, then added with a touch of uncharacteristic hesitancy. “Yeoman Rand said it was acceptable to procure a sample of one of the botanical specimens.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” said Jim. 

Spock reached into the front pocket of his overalls and pulled out a red rose about the length of Jim’s pointer finger with a bud that had barely begun to open. Spock held it out to him, adding, “Yeoman Rand explained that it is a customary courtship ritual among humans to give flowers, especially the red rose with has an emotional significance compared to the other colors.”

“That‘s right,” said Jim, after a stunned moment. He gently plucked the rose from Spock’s fingers, though he was grateful that Rand had warned Spock about the dangers of the thorns he was wondering what horrible duty he could inflict upon her for her meddling. Clearly, she had entirely too much time on her hands if she was thinking up things like this, he mentally grumbled, and wondered if Scotty needed something greasy and smelly to be scrubbed.

“I admit that I do not see the logic of assigning any sort of significance to the variation of colors produced by the rosa plant,” said Spock, his voice more confident now.

“I don‘t think it was assigned,” said Jim, “I think it just developed slowly in Earth culture over such a period of time that it became traditional. Plus the color red has a lot of significance to humans.”

“Due to the fact that human blood is red to due hemoglobin,” said Spock. 

“That‘s right,” agreed Jim, then he stood up. “Are you done with the garden?”

Spock nodded. “I have concluded in running various scans on the vegetation.”

“Good, then we‘ll stop by my quarters so I can drop this off,” said Jim, motioning with the rose towards the exist. 

Spock followed.

“Do you want to be on the bridge with me when we leave the system? I want to say goodbye to the Cromtician Leaders before we do,” continued Jim. “And I think they‘ll also want to see you before we go.”

Spock agreed with a nod and walking side by side they left the garden.   
*-*-*-*

The two hours since the call from Admiral Pike had ended had been put to excellent use by the entire Enterprise crew. System diagnostics had been run on every computer system in all departments. The Engineering Department was keeping an eye on the damaged power conduit. Scotty had gone down to the planet, returned with Keenser and the rest of the officers. Lieutenant Hernandez had heightened the sensitivity of the short range and the long range scanners. 

And, most importantly to Jim, Bones had finally processed the paperwork that cleared him from medical leave. 

Jim tilted back the captain’s chair as he enjoyed finally getting to sit in it. It had been far too long. He hadn’t realized the depth of how he’d been missing it until he was in it again. 

He was once again, the Captain of the Enterprise. 

The only thing missing from the usual sounds of his bridge crew at work was that Hernandez was sitting in the science officer’s chair. 

“Captain, all departments declare themselves ready,” said Uhura, turning to Jim.

“Diagnostics on the computer are finished, Keptin,” agreed Chekov. 

“As is the helm computer,” added Sulu, his fingers working rapidly over the helm controls. “Course to Starbase 42 has been plotted and inputted.”

Jim pressed the button on chair that called down to Engineering. “Mr. Scott how are the engines?”

“So far so good, Captain,” said Scotty. “Just try to keep the ship below warp 3 if ye would not mind.”

“I‘ll keep that in mind, Scotty,” said Jim, amused. As the chronometer finally counted down the hour to 1800 hours, he stood up. It was time to say goodbye to the planet Cromtic and its people. “Lieutenant Uhura, hail the Cromtician Leaders.”

“Aye, sir. Hailing frequency is open,” said Uhura, and with a flick of graceful fingers. 

The view screen of the bridge that had been showing the beauty of the planet below them switched over to a large room decorated with a circular motif. Facing the bridge crew and standing in a semi-circle were the Cromtician Leaders. 

Jim greeted them with a bow. At his side so did Spock. 

“Greetings, Leaders of the Cromtician Way,” said Jim. 

“Greetings, Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the Federation Way,” said Leader Surn in his gravelly voice, while the rest of the leaders’ antennae twisted in welcome.

“I‘m afraid that we‘ll have to cut our visit short,” said Jim. “We have orders to break orbit and head to another destination.”

“We understand the call of duty,” said Leader Marh, “though my cubs will be most disappointed. Cub Yarm has been especially excited about once again playing with the furry pet called a tribble.”

Jim’s lips twitched. “Pass on my apologies to the cub then.”

Marh’s antennae curled in equal amusement.

“The Federation will be sending an ambassador as well as the starbase engineering crew in a couple of weeks,” continued Jim. “With luck this won‘t be last time the Enterprise will visit your people.”

“We will look forward to the visit from more members of Federation Way,” said Leader Tilk, sweetly. “And we most certainly welcome another visit from you, Captain known as James Tiberius Kirk, as well as your crew of the starship known as Enterprise.”

“We do request to be appraised of the condition of Commander Spock of Federation Way,” added Marh, “as he has not been restored to adulthood. His condition is still our concern.”

“We shall do so,” agreed Jim.

“Then until such a time that our Ways in the Path of life intersect again,” said Leader Gemt slowly. His elderly pale antennae moved into the shape of farewell, “the Cromtician people pass on our good will towards yours.”

“And we wish your people the best health and good fortune,” said Jim, in response. 

They bowed to each other again, and the view screen flickered back into the view of the planet Cromtic.

Jim sat back down on the command chair.

“Lieutenant Sulu, lets head on out, at impulse power,” said Jim.

“Aye, Captain, impulse power until we are out of the gravimetric field of the planet,” said Sulu. His fingers moved confidently over the controls of the helm. 

On screen, the planet began to shrink. 

“The ship will be out of the grawimetric field of the planet in 3.5 seconds,” said Chekov.

The seconds ticked, and Jim found himself paying more attention to Spock’s face than to his bridge crew. 

The boy’s eyes were gleaming in excitement again. Jim knew when the countdown was over because his chin went up. 

“Warp factor 2, Mr. Sulu,” said Jim, at just the right time. 

“Aye, warp factor 2, sir,” said Sulu. He slowly pulled the gleaming silver lever that activated the warp engines. 

Jim held his breath, even with his confidence in Scotty, this was the moment of truth. He closed his eyes as he could feel the pitch of the engines change to a higher frequency, quickly followed by a sensation that Jim could only describe as the sensation of a leaping into open air as the ship jumped into warp.

He grinned and opened his eyes in time to see Sulu and Chekov exchange a high-five. 

Jim pressed the button to call down to the engineering department again. “My compliments, Mr. Scott.” He could hear cheers and whoops of delight in the background.

“Ye‘re welcome, Captain,” said Scotty, through the speakers of the chair. Then a loud bang of metal hitting metal sounded in the background which made Jim blink in surprise. “Oi!” yelled Scotty, “Keenser get down from there! ‘ow many times ‘ave I told ye-”

The entire bridge crew snickered and Jim cut the line with a wider grin.


	22. Chapter 22

“Captain,” said Hernandez, interrupting the good humor on the bridge, with his serious tone of voice. “The long range scanners have picked up faint ion trails outside of the Cromtic system.”

The professionalism of the bridge snapped into place with a near audible pop as nearly everyone turned in their station to face him.

“The computer was able to recognize five separate energy spectrums from those trails,” continued Hernandez looking up from the readouts to speak to Jim. “Only three were from engines used by members of the Federation, which includes the Enterprise.”

“And the other two, Mr. Hernandez?” asked Jim, leaning forward in both interest and trepidation.

“One of them is Tholian,” said Hernandez, soberly. “It‘s actually several days old. I think they passed us by shortly after we got here. We didn‘t catch it before because the trail was too old for the usual sensitivity of the sensors to pick up on it.”

Jim made a mental note of that. Tholians strolling into Federation territory was one of the reasons that Starfleet had set out to secure a starbase in this sector of space. If they had been pressing in even with a Starfleet ship so close nearby then it had to be for a reason. One that Starfleet Command would need to know and especially one that the next Federation starship to arrive at the Cromtic system would need to look out for.

“And unfortunately, the other trail’s energy is too diffused to provide a solid spectral analysis,” continued Hernandez, his face tight with frustration. “Even with the sensitivity of the sensors increased, I can‘t be certain of the origins only that it isn’t as old as the Tholian ion trail.” He directed a heavy frown towards the flashing computer displays of the science station before shooting his captain an apologetic look.

“Is there anything you can tell us about it?” asked Jim patiently, though he wasn’t able to resist tapping his fingers against the arms of the command chair yet he was careful to stay away from the sensitive controls. 

“Not yet, the computer needs more time to analyze it,” admitted Hernandez. He touched a few controls on his station. “I‘m only certain that it‘s not from a Federation, Tholian, Romulan or Klingon ship. The information should be at your chair, sir.”

Jim sighed in frustration though not particularly surprised as he silently reviewed the information displayed on the command chair computer screen and verified Hernandez words for himself. Any Orion ship that could be following them this far from Orion space wouldn’t be easy to detect. He asked, “How soon will the computer take to finish the analysis, Mr. Hernandez?” 

“An hour and twenty minutes,” said Hernandez, promptly. 

Jim stood up and nodded at his crew. “Uhura, set out an intership message. I want all department heads to meet in one hour and thirty minutes in Deck 6‘s conference room.”

“Aye, sir,” said Uhura with a nod, and swiftly turned back to her station to relay the order.

“Mr. Hernandez, I’ll be waiting for your completed report. Sulu, you have the conn,” continued Jim. He flickered his eyes at Spock, who straightened and followed as Jim headed for the turbolift. 

“Aye, sir,” called Sulu, after them.

The lift closed on Jim’s view of the bridge with a soft whoosh. Before Jim could open his mouth to ask Spock how he felt about taking lunch in his quarters, Spock spoke first. 

“Jim, I have observed that you will not be able to spend as much time overseeing to my care since you have cleared for full duties as captain,” stated Spock, as the turbolift began moving.

Jim blinked in surprise and took in the calm expression on Spock’s face. He wondered how calm Spock was actually feeling. He thought the kid was okay with this news for the rest of his body language was relaxed. At least Jim hoped that was the reason.

Had he mentioned that he really disliked how much control Spock was getting back of his emotions and physical expressions? Because he did. A lot.

“Yeah, I‘m afraid so, Spock,” admitted Jim, after a moment. He was heartened when Spock‘s appeared to be perfectly alright with his acknowledgement. “I‘m back on the roster for Alpha shift and taking care of the ship will absorb more of my attention than it had while I was on light duties. For the rest of the night, I‘ll be taking over the duty shift on the bridge. Our officers have been too stretched out and I want to make sure that they are fully rested come morning.” The sound of the lift doors opening made him absently walk out of the turbolift though most of his attention was focused on Spock.

“I merely wanted to state that I am of sufficiently advanced age that I no longer require that I be kept under adult supervision,” said Spock, as he followed at Jim‘s side. He continued firmly, “It will not be necessary to find a substitute guardian during that time in which you are required on the bridge. It would be a waste of resources for a Starfleet officer to be used in such a manner especially during such a time when those resources would be put to better use safeguarding the Enterprise.”

“Okay, okay. I give in,” said Jim, grinning as they walked to his quarters. “That‘s a logical argument. I won‘t inflict another babysitter on you. I think Rand will just have to be disappointed.” Although personally, Jim was glad that his yeoman would have less time to give Spock _ideas_ about human courtship. He was still rather paranoid about what else his personal yeoman had thought to pass on to the kid while he wasn’t around to keep an eye on them both. 

Spock nodded soberly.

“How old are you now anyway?” asked Jim, as the sensors to his room caught him and opened. 

“I am 13 years, 7 months, 2 weeks, and 3 hours old,” said Spock. And as if to emphasize his approaching puberty at the three, Spock’s voice broke with a surprising squeak. 

Spock cleared his throat delicately and tried to pretend the voice break hadn’t happen.

Jim wasn‘t able to keep his smile from widening. “Yeah,” he agreed, “You‘re definitely getting older.” 

_Maybe, I’ll get lucky enough and I won’t have to go on a date with the kid,_ Jim thought cheerfully. _And then there’ll be less reason for Spock to kill me when he gets all his memories back._

Not that grown Spock didn’t have enough excuse for justifying the murder of his captain.  
*-*-*-*

Even though Jim believed Spock when he said that he could be left alone without constant supervision, he was rather reluctant to do so. Feeling rather greedy to enjoy every single possible second he could with Spock before needing to return to being the captain, Jim decided that they could take their meals in one of their private quarters. 

He did make point of stopping by the mess in order to get the food, first. While only the quarters of high ranked officers like the first officer and the captain had personal replicators, those machines weren’t exactly calibrated to produce only food. That meant the quality and taste of the meals that came out of them would often suffer. Or taste like something that wasn’t edible at all, if the machine glitched. 

The only reason Jim tolerated the coffee from them was that he’d long ago reprogrammed his replicator to produce a superior blend than what had been the standard in the machine. It had been either that or glower like a caffeine deprived monster every morning at his crew before he got to the mess. There were just some things that his crew shouldn’t have to suffer through.

So in the hour before he had ordered the meeting of all department heads, Jim was taking the time to enjoy a quiet meal with Spock in Spock’s room. He’d picked Spock’s quarters because he felt a lot better in leaving the kid there than anywhere else once he left. 

Yet he wondered if it had been a good idea when the tribble kept demanding attention from where it quivered in its cage. It was flattening its brown fur up against the wall of the cage that was closest to where Spock and Jim sat and trilled insistently. 

“Okay, that tribble has got to be defective,” muttered Jim, as he raised a fork full of his vegetable stir fry.

Spock arched an eyebrow. “I do believe that the tribble is reacting is such a fashion because it has become accustomed to constant attention.”

 _It’s not the only one,_ Jim thought. He was also inclined to get twitchy when Spock was out of sight for too long. _Bones is never going to stop making fun of me,_ he thought glumly. _As if he needs more ammunition._

“What are you going to do while I‘m on duty?” Jim asked in an attempt to distract himself from those morose mental images. 

“I have considered spending a few hours in the science department. I was given an invitation to return,” said Spock. “I would like use the sensors of the Astrometrics lab now that the ship has left the Cromtician system.”

“And after that?” asked Jim. 

“I will stop by the Engineering Department in order to assess the development of the aging machine,” answered Spock, and he delicately speared a baby carrot with his own fork.

“Sound like a plan, just do me a favor…” said Jim, with a wry smile.

Spock nodded, pausing with the fork in mid-air.

“Watch out for any exploding computer consoles.”

“I do not believe that Mr. Scott would tolerate the repeat of such an incident,” said Spock calmly and proceeded to eat his food. 

“Yeah, but it will make me feel better if you‘re on the look out. The Enterprise is still a big place,” said Jim. _And thirteen or not you’re still a kid._ He did not add aloud. Jim knew better than to poke a teenager’s prickly pride. 

Spock swallowed before answering soberly, “Very well, Jim.”  
*-*-*-*

He was nearly late getting to the meeting of all department heads. Jim would have actually been late, full stop, if Spock hadn’t been the one to practically shove him out the door to get him moving. Jim just really didn’t like the idea of Spock being left alone. It didn’t help at all that his protective instincts were already being tripped with the knowledge of his ship and his crew being in danger. 

He shook his head at himself and walked through the conference doors. 

Everyone from Cupcake to Scotty was waiting for him. The only ones not at this meeting were Sulu and Chekov, even though they weren’t department heads, Jim would insisted they attend as well as he was very used to their intelligent input but he needed them both at their stations on the bridge. He would have them in the next meeting though. Especially Chekov, Jim liked the way the teenager approached ideas from different angles than normal.

Hernandez was furiously tapping away at his PADD and straightened in acknowledgement a beat behind the rest.

“Alright, Lieutenant Hernandez,” said Jim, without preamble. “Share with the class what you‘ve found.”

“Yes, Captain,” said Hernandez, as he stood. He touched his PADD and the large monitor at the end of the table flashed into a series of energy readouts. “There are the ion trails we found at the edge of the Cromtic system. The computer was able to produce a 53.8 percent match to this” - he touched the screen of his PADD and the picture changed - “an Orion scout ship.”

The picture of a ship in the middle of a circular propulsion system which glowed orange at four points was surprisingly blurry. 

“Why is the match so low?” asked Jim, surprised. 

Hernandez shifted in place uncomfortably, “If afraid it’s the nature of the Orion ship, sir. The scout ships are built with a sensor blocking capacity that is difficult even for our sensors probes to penetrate. If Mr. Spock hadn‘t showed me how to temporarily increase their sensitivity, it‘s doubtful that I would have been able to gather enough data for the computer to provide a match that high.”

“Hmm, it makes sense, considering how far they are from their space,” said Jim.

“The main problem is that we have, sir,” Hernandez said, “is that we can‘t maintain the changes to the long range and short range sensors for long with the instruments suffering damage. So if the scout ship comes back when they are operating normally, I don‘t think we‘ll see them. At least not until its too late.” 

“Damn it, there‘s never good news is there?” groaned Bones.

The expressions on everyone’s faces were grim. 

Yet Hernandez’s words sparked an idea in Jim’s mind. “Can we alternate instead?”

“Sir?” asked Hernandez.

Scotty caught on. “The sensors! We can alternate which sensors we use to not stress the machines!”

Jim nodded, “Exactly. Scotty, how well can we do that? The sensors are tied together. Is there a way we can separate their operation so that we can use one at increased sensitivity and then switch to the other to prevent damage?”

Scotty was nodding before Jim even finished speaking. “Aye, Captain. I do not see why not. I will need to pull a few engineers in to monitor the sensors and provide preventive maintenance but it can be done.”

Hernandez also added with a lighter expression. “I‘m not the only one that Mr. Spock trained to change the sensitivity on the sensors. I can tap those scientists into shifts so the ship can have around the clock surveillance.”

“Good,” said Jim. “Now this Orion scout ship. What kind of capacities does it have, Cupcake?”

McCoy and Uhura both rolled their eyes. Hernandez’s eyes widened in surprise and Scotty grinned.

Freeman scowled at Jim before shifting his dark look to the picture of the out of focus Orion ship. “Intelligence reports don‘t have much. These ships have only been spotted in a handful of locations by Federation merchant vessels and even less by Starfleet ships. There no information on crew numbers and the only weapons that have been verified are phasers.” 

Jim blinked. “That‘s it? No photon torpedoes? Or even those weird web things the Tholians like?”

Freeman’s scowl grew deeper. “Not as far as we know. The only other information we have on them is that they‘re fast, capable of reaching warp 10. They probably haven’t had to use anything else. And probably that’s why that‘s the only intel we have on them.”

“If our lady was back on ‘er feet she would be able to keep pace,” said Scotty. “But there is no chance in ‘er present condition.”

“So they can out run us but maybe not out fight us,” said Jim, thinking. “This means that we will have to pick out ground where speed is not a factor that can be used if it turns into a fight. ”

“Like an asteroid field,” said Uhura, thoughtfully. 

“Yes, exactly,” Jim grinned. He did love it when his crew was on his wavelength. 

“We need an asteroid field that won‘t affect our sensors and but large enough so that the scout ship can‘t out run us when we spring our trap.”

Scotty’s eyes lit up with unholy glee. “We can mine the ‘ell out of it, Captain.”

Jim’s grin widened as he followed Scotty’s train of thought. “How many space mines can you make, Scotty?”

“I can start production on them as soon as the meeting is over,” said Scotty with a grin. He tapped Freeman‘s PADD that held the Orion scout ship information. “The hull of the ship is made of high density trititanium. What will be harder will be to program the mines so that they are only triggered when they hit it. That metal so damn bloody hard to sense.”

“It would be better if you also made them so that they won‘t arm until we trigger them to hem the Orion ship inside the field,” interrupted Freeman before Scotty could descend into a rant though he did have a grin beginning to curl at the corners of his mouth. “If we can set up a pen with the mines the Orions won‘t be able to escape us after we spring the trap on them.”

“Hernandez, use the Astrometrics data to find us a few asteroid field that fit our requirements near Starbase 42. Expand the search if there aren’t any near them,” Jim ordered. 

Hernandez nodded. 

“This is only the beginning of a plan, people,” continued Jim. “We still have an Orion ship on our asses. What else?”

“Medical bay is ready for any emergency,” said McCoy. He frowned at them all. “Not that we want any, you hear me.” 

Jim tried to ignore the way that Bones’ glare was landing on him the most. It wasn’t like he went out of his way to get injured. Except that last time… and okay the time before that. _So maybe Bones has a point,_ Jim mentally admitted, and promised to himself to never ever say it out loud.

“Starting tomorrow morning, security is going to be running through various drills,” said Freeman. He passed his PADD over to Jim for him to review. Jim scrolled through it quickly and nodded. “We‘ll be taking over a couple decks of a time running through attack simulations.”

“I want to add some of my emergency medics to these,” said McCoy, leaning over Jim’s shoulder to read along. “If we‘re going to be dealing casualties, we don‘t want to run blockades held by our own people.”

“I thought you would, Doctor,” nodded Freeman. “The request for the medical personnel should already be in your inbox.”

Bones’ pleased and surprised expression made Jim hold in an amused snort. His friend had been battling with Starfleet about the procedures involving the use of medics in the field. There was a deep seated habit in Starfleet to protect the medical personnel when in the field and in the middle of battles. Fully trained doctors that had the expertise to serve in starships were rare and were more likely to be protected than allowed to go into danger. Which thoroughly defeated the point of medical training, as Bones had often grumbled at him. 

Getting Cupcake to start using the Medical department and actually incorporating their training with the security officers had only taken a word in his ear from Jim. Well that and the promise to never, ever call him Cupcake in front of a superior officer, especially Admiral Pike. 

Only the fact that it was a promise for Bones’ sake made the loss of potential hilarious situation worth it.

“Lieutenant Uhura,” said Jim, dragging his mind away from the distraction mental pictures. “What kind of reactions are we hearing about the destruction of Space Station 23?”

Uhura took control of every eye in the room with ease. “There have been several claims from anti-Federation groups claiming responsibility, as well as some Romulan fringe groups. There wasn‘t been anything heard from the Klingons or the Orions. Just about the reaction that Intelligence expected to get.”

Jim nodded. 

“I have also sent out feelers among my contacts for any sighting on men who meet Fox‘s description,” added Uhura, her eyes flickering with hints of hot anger. “There‘s no port in this sector of space that won‘t be looking for him.”

“Good,” said Jim, satisfied by her efforts. Uhura had an extensive list of contacts that could give any Intelligence agent a run for his money. Between every Communication officer in the ‘fleet which kept in contact every other Communications officer, and Uhura’s use of family and friends that were scattered throughout the Federation that she could regularly tapped for information, and her ability to speak so many exotic languages with the fluency of native meant she had the tendency to charm a lot of those natives into the palm of her hand. All this had left her with lines of communication and information worthy of a master spy. 

If there was anyone who could find a Fox - if he was live - it would be Uhura’s network.

“Okay, everyone, we’re going to be meeting again tomorrow at 1300 hours,” said Jim. “Scotty, I want to get a report from you letting me know exactly how many mines you can get ready before we arrive at the planet. And Cupcake, I want the results on those drills, as well as your recommendations to who you want on the tactical teams, as soon as possible.”

He got ‘Aye’s from everyone and the meeting broke up.

Jim began heading to the bridge to finish the last few hours of his shift and actually giving Chekov and Sulu chance to get some rest when he noticed his friend had followed him into the turbolift. He shot a suspicious glance over at Bones.

“So… have you asked him?” asked McCoy, with entirely too much an innocent look on his face. 

“Asked who what?” asked Jim, eying him warily. 

“Spock that‘s who!” smirked McCoy as he clapped Jim on the back. “Didn‘t you have a date to make?”

Stunned, it took Jim a moment to respond. “I hate you,” he said flatly.

“So you chickened out, huh?” McCoy’s smirk was even more insufferable.

“Bones!” groaned Jim. “Is this really the time?”

“You‘re the one that‘s worried about the kid being too young for all this space danger nonsense,” said McCoy, reasonably. “I gave you some great advice, so you can‘t blame me if I‘m rather curious to see if you followed through.”

Jim didn’t respond to that. Because… well… it was good advice. He just didn’t think he had the nerve to encourage a young teenage Spock’s crush on him when he was pretty damned certain the adult version felt no such thing. 

“You just want to make fun of me,” Jim grumbled. The way that Bones damn near beamed at him certainly proved that true as well as succeeded in freaking him out. Jim was not used to Bones _not_ being at least a little grumpy, at least not when he _wasn’t_ drunk. It was surreal to the extreme.

“That‘s only an added benefit,” said McCoy, smugly.

The turbolift opened onto the bridge as Jim glowered at McCoy. “Go away, Bones and let me face the possible destruction at the hands of the Orions in peace.”

McCoy snorted in amusement behind him but let him exit without any more ribbing. 

As Jim sat down in the command chair, he wasn’t able to resist using the computer to search for Spock’s location. Knowing the kid was now in the Science Department made him feel entirely too relieved and then grateful that Bones wasn’t around to see his reaction. 

Before his mind could obsessively fixate on just exactly how he was going to deal with Spock, either ask him on a date or get ready to tell the kid that he was going to be sent back to Sarek as soon as they reached the starbase, Rand arrived with reports for him to sign. 

Jim knew it didn’t say good things about the whole situation that he was actually rather glad to have tedious and annoying paperwork to deal for the rest of his shift instead. 

He knew he as going to have to make up his mind. 

Hey, but no one said he had to do it now.


	23. Chapter 23

Jim entered his own quarters stretching his arms above his head and yawning wide enough to feel his jaw give a slight pop. 

He blinked away bleary tears of tiredness as the lights came on in his room. Then Jim walked over to the com-unit and checked on Spock’s location for who knew how many times this night. He‘d honestly lost count. After the long hours of Jim’s shift the boy had moved from the Science Department down to where the Engineering Department had settled the aging machine. 

Jim was pretty certain that meant Spock would still be there for at the very least a couple more hours. He then noticed the icon signaling the arrival of personal messages was blinking. Jim opened his inbox and the first one was from Admiral Pike. It was a respond to the letter Jim had sent him the other day. Curious about Pike’s reaction, Jim opened the link to a vid.

“Hello, Jim,” said Pike, the smile on his face was wider than Jim was using to seeing on the admiral. Jim couldn’t help but grin back even knowing this was a recording. Pike had a preference for visual messages over the older style of text only that Jim liked. Jim had to admit that at times like these that the video messages were superior. He wouldn’t have missed that smile for anything.

“When Spock finds out you‘ve been taking pictures of him as a little kid and then spreading them around the Federation without his permission, you‘ll be in for a world of hurt,” continued Pike, his eyes bright and twinkling with amusement. 

“Yeah, I know,” admitted Jim, aloud. 

“And haven‘t I told you that if you want to pull on his pigtails that the last thing you should do is embarrass the man?”

Jim made a loud noise of protest. “I‘m not pulling anyone‘s pigtails!”

“And before you try to tell me that‘s not what you‘re doing, need I remind you of how you were acting towards him those first two months he was your first officer? _Before_ you learned to tone it down?” said Pike, his voice thick with laughter. Jim crossed his arms and sulked at the screen where Pike’s grin actually grew wider and wider. 

“Oh, shut up,” Jim grumbled. 

“Not that I‘m not happy with the pictures because if you have more then pass them on!” continued Pike. “I just wanted to tell that I’m already going to call it justifiable homicide when Spock kills you.”

“Hey!” Jim said indignantly. “Well, now I know who‘s the favorite.”

“And on more serious news-”

“My oncoming death isn‘t serious?” Jim protested.

“-it‘s good that you got an officer taking over Spock‘s Science Department. You also need to think about finding a substitute for his position as first officer, especially into the situation you‘re going into. And also-”

Jim groaned and paused the vid. He’d been so certain that Spock would be back on his feet - as a fully grown Vulcan - that he hadn’t covered that position. Pretty much just about any officer who was Bridge Crew could fulfill the position of First Officer. Anyone who could take control of the conn was also a command officer. 

But Pike was right, he needed to clarify who would be taking over as acting Captain should _he_ be taken out of action. That was a bit more important.

Out of everyone on the ship, Scotty had the most seniority and the only reason that Jim was reluctant to appoint him was that his attention was needed on the engines and keeping the ship going. That and Scotty had the tendency to want to explode everything in sight if given half the chance.

Jim decided that he’d get Uhura to cover the position of first officer. Sulu was needed at the helm. And Chekov - well, Jim didn’t have any protest against his youth - considering how he was the captain of a starship at his own relatively young age. Jim wasn’t about to throw stones about that. 

No, it was just that Chekov’s skills would be better suited running the tactical station should the ship end up in a fight. The teen had an uncanny ability at targeting that made him the best one to man the phasers. Not that many people could shoot out oncoming photon torpedoes with phasers even with the computer providing assistance. Chekov didn’t even need the computer. He calculated all the vectors and velocities in his head. And he didn’t miss.

The fact that the ship was still under Jim’s feet was proof of that extraordinary skill.

And Bones… no. Just no. Jim trusted Bones like crazy that didn’t mean that he wanted Bones in charge during a tactical situation when he wasn‘t being CMO. Bones was best in the medical bay. 

Ultimately, Uhura was the best choice. Uhura’s natural poise under pressure would be perfect to take over the ship should something happen to him. She didn’t panic, she knew the bridge crew’s strengths and weaknesses, and she had become a lot more willing to take risks in the last few months that they had been working together. 

The only thing that Uhura would protest about the temporary position would be being kept away from her precious communication station. _It_ was her first true love. And while she was more than capable of being temporary captain, it wasn’t a task she was that interested in. At least not at the moment. 

Though, Jim could fully see her sitting in her own chair on her own ship in a decade’s time. He just hoped that Uhura would one day agree. She would an amazing captain. 

So Jim made up his mind and sent along the order to designate Uhura as temporary First Officer. And then continued playing Pike’s message. 

“- Jim, just to warn you, since you were the one that pointed out the corruption of Commander Fox, and sparked off the investigation, Starfleet is getting quite a bit of political fallout from the destruction of Spacebase 23. And Fox‘s family is already protesting that he had nothing to do with it. His uncle, Ambassador Fox has a lot of friends, including a couple in the Presidential residence,” said Pike, somberly. 

Jim winced. 

“And there has been more than one search that’s been run through your previous records before joining Starfleet. Especially your criminal record or should I say records,” said Pike, dryly.

“Damn it,” Jim groaned. He rubbed his eyes and felt the weight of his exhaustion slamming back into him.

“So far your name is still good in the media and the public at large,” said Pike. “But it can‘t last forever against a really determined campaign. You know how fickle the media can be. One day you’re the hero and the next you‘re the villain. The fact that you and your crew saved all of Earth and probably a lot of the Federation six months ago is helping a lot.” 

Jim scowled 

“If Intelligence can get their hands on Commander Fox or even more solid evidence of his guilt then we should be able to silence the Fox family with that proof,” said Pike. “But I wanted you know, so you aren‘t taken by surprise. And because of this nonsense, once this entire mess had been settled we‘ll probably have the Enterprise stay away from Earth for a few months.”

“Great, just great,” said Jim. Bones would be crushed. He was hoping to go see his little girl when the ship was due to go back to Earth in a month and a half.

“Maybe we’ll be lucky and won’t have to do that to you and your crew. I know it‘s not the best situation but that‘s politics for you,” said Pike, with a sigh. “I‘ll pass along more news about the situation as it develops.”

“And Jim, when Spock is back to normal, have him give you a run through on how to handle this,” said Pike. “The man has an instinct for politics that only comes from growing up in it.” He paused, and a smile twitched at his lips. “Though I wouldn‘t put it past him to still be good at getting people to do what he wants even when he‘s a kid.”

“I know,” groaned Jim. “He uses those eyes like they’re weapons.” 

“Keep me updated, Jim,” continued Pike. “And I‘m serious about getting more pictures, I‘ll need that evidence for Spock‘s defense at the court-martial.”

Jim shook his head and grinned as the vid finished and screen went black. The symbol asking for a reply flashed and Jim passed it by. Instead he opened up the next personal message in the inbox. Jim straightened as the saw the message was from Spock. The much older Spock that was currently living on the Vulcan colony.

“Jim,” said Spock, the lines around his mouth growing deeper with a faint smile. 

Jim couldn’t resist the wide grin that sprang on his lips. He really _liked_ hearing from the old man. 

“As always it is good to hear from you, old friend,” continued Spock, his voice gravelly age and deep affection. 

That tone made Jim swallow at the thickness gathering in his throat. It always affected him like this. Ever since the mind-meld between them, when Jim had been hit by older Spock’s emotions and memories, then he had only just begun to understand the depth of the history that had existed between this Spock and that Jim in that alternate timeline that would never exist in this one. Just knowing that he - now him - still received that level of trust, respect and admiration made Jim wish to be worthy of it. 

Some version of him had once been able to win those emotions from Spock, and he wanted to be able to keep them. 

It was also one of the most intimidating things he’d ever faced in his life. 

Even Bones had found it so. After the first time they’d met, Bones had been so thoroughly shaken by the old man’s affectionate regard that afterwards he and Jim had stopped by a bar to get drunk. And at least Bones hadn’t started out his relationship with young Spock thinking that Spock hated his guts like Jim had. They’d also had one of the most somber discussions ever - an alternate life was a big topic to cover - even though with all the drinks they’d consumed they hadn‘t exactly been sober. 

“As always, the colony’s growth maintains a steady pace. Three new buildings have been completed and four more are halfway in construction. The carving of a new Katric Ark temple has begun now that the main sleeping quarters for all Vulcans and off-world guests are also completed. Though there have been some protests from traditionalists over ease of access as well as the design,” here Spock’s voice was dry.

Jim grinned. He could tell that Spock didn’t approve of their attitude. 

“Their resistance to change to accommodate the planet’s higher rainfall is quite illogical,” continued Spock.

 _Pretty much he wishes he didn’t have to be the respectable elder to he can thump some ‘logical’ sense into them,_ Jim mentally translated. Then he snickered because he’d pay a stack of credits to see this older Spock berating a bunch of illogical Vulcans. Hell, any version of Spock would be good. 

“In reference to your description as to my young self as ‘adorable’,” said Spock. “I‘m sure you are mistaken.”

Jim snickered. “Oh, no, I‘m not. The entire ship agrees with me.” Jim would make sure to send along pictures this time when he wrote back. Pictorial evidence was hard to argue against. Especially when said evidence was shown cuddling a tribble. 

“I would be most appreciative if you could also send along the readings on the Cub Sphere, I have never encountered such a device before. I would be most interested in studying all information on this crystal technology.”

Once a science officer, always a science officer, Jim thought, with a smile. 

“And regarding your question as to how I dealt with being the first human-Vulcan hybrid, I‘m afraid the answer is ‘not very well’,” said Spock, calmly. 

Jim went still and the smile dropped from his face at Spock’s much more serious voice. 

“I was never able to gain acceptance from my peers during my youth. This caused me to react by becoming more emotionally distant,” said Spock. “Once, in my youth I even considered our friendship a cause for shame.”

Jim startled so hard he nearly fell off the chair. 

“Such emotions should have been under my control as a Vulcan and I considered my lack of resistance to your other self‘s friendship to be sign of my lack of Vulcan purity. I had believed that my humanity was a weakness and should be suppressed at all costs,” said Spock, wryly. “It took several years but I did get over this erroneous assumption.” 

“Huh,” said Jim, surprised. He would never have guessed that _this_ Spock had ever thought along such lines. 

“But Jim, you do have to consider that there are subtle differences between myself and the Spock who is your first officer. I do believe that he feels differently than I did at his age. He was vastly more protective of how his mother was perceived by Vulcan society, than I had been at his age.”

Jim was startled again.

“In the past few months, Sarek and I have discussed my younger self’s youth as a comparison to my own to discover any divergence. The most significant differences were that I never was involved a physical altercation with my fellow Vulcan students, and T‘Pring didn‘t die in her youth.”

“I hypothesize,” continued Spock, “that these changes produced a Spock who is more willing to protect his humanity than to try to suppress it to nothingness like I attempted to do so.”

“So, you‘re saying that he‘s more in touch with his emotions?” asked Jim, out loud. “That‘s- that‘s kind of hard to believe.” He eyed the video with disbelief. “Exactly how bad were _you_ with emotions?” His vivid imagination tried to picture it and failed spectacularly.

“There is a lot of anger in my younger self,” said Spock. “Even without initiating touch telepathy I could sense it beneath his mental shields.”

“Oh, now that I _can_ believe,” breathed Jim, remembering how badly Spock had snapped when Jim had deliberately pushed him to show his state of emotional compromise. Of course, now Jim knew where all that anger came from. It came from growing up in society that considered one of the people you loved in the entire universe as being less valuable, as being weak. 

It made Jim wonder if this attitude was one of the reasons that Spock had to join Starfleet. If felt true to his instincts.

Before Spock had joined there had never before been a Vulcan commissioned Starfleet officer. Though there had been Vulcans assigned to starships. They had still been members of the Vulcan Science Council. Considering how utterly brilliant Spock was, Jim certainly didn’t think it was because he wasn’t able to get accepted if he‘d applied to join them. 

Knowing this made Jim feel like he was that much closer to understanding the whole that made up Spock. Not that he had any illusions about completely getting everything that made up his first officer.

“Jim, the only advice I can give you regarding my now very young self is to be patient,” said Spock, throwing Jim out of his thoughts. “And to not let him live under the assumption that humans are inferior to Vulcans.”

“Oh, you bet, I‘m not doing _that_ ,” said Jim, instantly. Then he gave the vid-Spock as exasperated look. “But that doesn‘t really help me in dealing with Spock‘s crush!”

“And in answer to one of your questions, you have been in contact with Sarek fairly recently so you are well aware of his health,” said Spock, with a twitch of an eyebrow. “You have been lax in keeping me updated on the state of _your_ health. A deep puncture to the liver is a grave injury.”

“How did you know?” Jim asked the screen in surprise, and then he scowled as he realized who would be the only other person on the ship who would tattle on him. “Bones told you.” 

“I will not lecture you about keeping yourself safe, Jim,” continued Spock. 

“Oh, thank God,” said Jim, with a glance up at the ceiling.

“-as I am sure that you have already received them from my young self.”

“Twice,” grumbled Jim. 

“But I would ask you to consider that I would not like to be informed about your demise,” said Spock, his deep voice softer now. “I live content with the knowledge that for once _you_ will outlive me.”

Jim swallowed down hard. 

“I would much rather that occurred than the alternative,” said Spock, softly. “It would be most _satisfactory_.” 

Jim hit the pause on the vid with a quickly flashed out hand. The other he had covering his face. He had to just breathe for moment before he was able to look up back at the frozen image of Spock’s older lined face. 

It said a great deal about how well this version of Spock knew him that those words hit him harder than any lecture from his first officer or yelling from Bones had managed to do. 

It was the old grief in this Spock’s eyes, a grief at losing his version of Jim, and the well of pain at the idea of doing it again that hit Jim like he’d been punched. 

It made it hard to breathe. 

It made Jim wish he’d gotten that lecture instead. 

He’d never really thought about how people would deal with his death. Sure, he was fully aware that they would grieve. Bones especially would be hit hard. But had he _really_ thought about how it would affect them? No. Not really. He pretty much had figured that they would get over it, if given enough time. 

But the proof was in this old man’s eyes that it wouldn‘t be that easy. And it made him aware of how devastated his friends would be and how badly it had to hurt them when he got so close to death. 

“I‘ll try,” Jim finally said to the vid, once he could look up from behind his hand. He couldn’t promise more. His position meant that his life was expendable. 

It was one of those odd lessons that all starship captains had learned on the way. It had almost just about become unofficial policy ever since the attack on the Kelvin. A captain, if only to buy their ship some time, would and have sacrificed their life for their crew, unflinchingly. And it was something that would continue long after Jim was around. 

When Pike had given himself over to Nero six months ago he’d been following that policy. Even knowing that officially a starship captain wasn’t supposed to put himself in such danger, he’d still done it for his crew because they had been out-gunned and out-matched by the giant Narada ship. Pike knew that when it came to their people a captain’s life was valued at so much less, though that crew may not necessarily agree. 

Jim was another captain that believed that. How could he not? His father had also shared that belief. Jim understood the reason for it in a way that he had never done so when he’s been young and so very angry at growing up with a dead father. 

“I _will_ try,” said Jim. He would try to fulfill that promise but if his people were in danger… that went out the window. 

Before Jim could continue the vid, the bleep of the door sounded.

“Come in,” he called and the door opened to show the other Spock currently in Jim’s life, the really young one that should have been about twice as old. “Hey, Spock,” said Jim, as he also closed down the vid, and logged out of his personal account. 

He could finish it later. The old man wouldn’t be expecting a reply from him anytime soon. 

Spock walked in and the look that he gave Jim made him straightened and wonder what his expression had told the young man. 

“I wasn‘t certain if you would be sleeping in my quarters or your own and sought to ascertain an answer,” said Spock, calmly. 

Jim gave him a surprised look then actually paused to think about it. “Umm, I hadn‘t thought about that. Do you want your room to yourself?” It was a valid question. Spock was approaching that age that in a teenage human usually meant keeping the adults away from your private quarters. 

There was that nearly imperceptible relaxation to Spock’s shoulders that gave Jim the answer. The boy had been thinking that _Jim_ would want to be out of Spock’s and in his own room. 

“That will not be necessary,” answered Spock. 

“Okay,” said Jim as he nodded in agreement. “Why don‘t you tell me about what you were up to? I bet it was more interesting than my shift.” 

Together he and Spock walked over to Spock’s quarters with Jim listening intently to the boy the entire way. 


	24. Chapter 24

The next day began pretty much the same way as the previous one. Jim decided with rueful amusement that he’d grown entirely too used to sharing the start of the day with Spock. Breakfast was a lot more enjoyable and his mood was a lot brighter even before the caffeine kicked in. 

Jim spent the first half of Alpha shift completing as many reports as he could so he would have more free time to devote to Spock when his shift ended. He also gave in to his urge to check in on Spock’s location. About once every hour, give or take a few minutes. Jim probably would have felt ridiculous about it if it hadn’t actually been an _improvement_ to how often he had been checking up on the kid yesterday. He was just glad that no one on the bridge had picked up on the compulsive protectiveness. Unfortunately, Rand had been around delivering those reports often enough and caught him at it. And unlike the rest of the bridge she had access to his system logs.

Damn it.

He was rather suspicious of the smug and calculating expression she began wearing half-way through his shift. And while Jim knew that it wasn’t Rand’s style to make fun of him like Bones would’ve done it wasn‘t exactly reassuring when he considered how formidable she could be. He had no useable offensive moves against her because she knew all his techniques and had developed countermeasures to every single one. _His_ successes against her were hovering near zero and her’s against him where reaching triple digits. 

_I really do have to consider shifting her to Security,_ Jim thought, not for the first time. _No one would dare attack the Enterprise._ He amused himself by thinking about a warship full of Klingons surrendering when they learned that she was on the ship‘s Security team. 

Other than that niggling worry from wondering at what the hell Rand was up to, Jim also spend Alpha shift lost in thought. Spock was still fourteen years old or to be more exact: 14 years, 11 months, 3 weeks, 2 days and 8.8 hours old, according to the last time Jim had asked. He had no shame in admitting that Spock’s current age was a big mental hurdle when it came to contemplating a date with him. Even knowing that in actuality Spock was an adult of more than legal age and that his youth was temporary, it was disturbing to Jim to think about a teenage Spock in romantic terms. He had absolutely no problem with it when Spock was at his real age. Jim had some pretty sordid fantasies that could attest to _that._ In fact, he has spent more than a few minutes thinking about how much he would love to take a fully adult Spock on a date. And he meant an actual real date and not just drinks before hitting a bed. Jim smiled at himself when he imaged how shocked Bones would be if he ever admitted that little nugget of information to him.

Then there was also the problem that Jim didn’t considered anyone on his own crew to be available in a romantic sense. Oh, he‘d had the occasional thought about his crew, he was only human after all but it had never gone beyond fantasies. Getting romantically involved brought up too many issues of possible favoritism and if the crewmember’s rank was too low it could also be considered a possible abuse of his position as captain. While such incidents in Starfleet were rare, and even rarer among starship captains, they weren’t unheard of. There were reasons why those rules were in place and fiercely enforced. And with the scrutiny the Enterprise was under, and not just from Starfleet Command but also from the Federation press and the civilian public, Jim was even more inclined to play by the rules when it came to the honor of the Enterprise. So he usually reined in his impulses until they were at an accommodating planet or a station where he found someone interesting and up for a night of fun with no strings attached.

Yet the thought of holding Spock’s interest in a romantic sense was…well it was like a swift kick to the stomach and it left Jim just as breathless and with the same urge to double-over though more from want than from pain. The possibility made Jim more than willing to cross that line that he had drawn for himself even if some part of him thought that if it all went wrong he‘d wish all he had to face was a hard kick and bruises. Bruises would heal but if he lost the growing friendship he’d been developing with his first officer than his entire ship could suffer.

And yet… he needed to do all he could to get Spock aged up. Which circled him back to the issue that to get back his first officer he had to get over his mental block about taking the kid on the date. 

Jim made a mental snort. _Maybe it would help,_ he thought in a mix of amusement and sarcasm, _if I stopped thinking about Spock as a **kid**._ Although the memory of Spock’s tiny toddler face - terrified and trying to hide it - when Jim first saw him was making it hard to do. He sighed to himself and went back to contemplating the date plan. Ultimately, he was rather clueless about what to do with Spock that would be both a new experience and interesting enough to keep Spock’s attention. None of his moves which Jim was used to pulling on the people who caught his interest were ones he’d be willing to pull on the kid. The idea made him cringe.

“Captain.”

Jim blinked up at Uhura as he was shaken out of his thoughts. “Yes, lieutenant?” he said warily. There was an odd expression on Uhura’s face that he had never before seen on his communications officer and Jim had gotten quite a large range of expressions from her over the last three years - damn near four years now - that they’ve known each other.

“I wish to speak to you, Captain. In private.”

“Alright.” Jim gestured to the turbo lift as he stood from the command chair. “Step into my office. Sulu, you have the conn.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Jim waited until the lift doors hissed shut before he hit the emergency stop. He eyed Uhura carefully and tried not to feel like the delinquent kid he used to be being called to the principal‘s office not because he felt guilty about anything but rather because he was swiftly trying to pick out what he‘d been caught on this time. It took the soft sound of a swallow from Uhura’s elegant neck for Jim to finally place the expression she wore. 

Uhura was nervous. Uhura. Nervous. The adrenaline kick from that realization made Jim twitch towards the turbo lift controls to hurry back to the bridge and declare a red alert.

“Captain, I-” Uhura paused, and took a deep breath before she continued. “I wanted to address the order to have me in place as acting first officer.”

“Oh, is that all.”

Uhura frowned at him. It said a lot about Jim’s usual interactions with her that seeing that frown actually made him relax. Now that was a normal expression from her.

“Captain, my experience -”

“You‘re qualified,” Jim interrupted her. 

“I‘m a communications officer,” Uhura protested. “I‘m not command track. I only took the minimum required classes for bridge crew officers. I don’t have the experience to command a starship.”

Jim raised his eyebrows. “And I did?”

“Repeat this to anyone and I‘ll deny it but you‘re a good captain,” she said softly. “You make the right calls.”

Jim couldn’t help the grin that broke across his face. 

Uhura rolled her eyes but continued with the same sincerity. “You’re occasionally arrogant, and often childish and you enjoy throwing away the rule book too often but… you‘re good. I don’t understand how, but you _know_ what to do. I don‘t. I know languages. I can translate Romulan, Klingon and several dozen other languages like a native born. But command-” she shook her head, “-it‘s outside my field. An officer like Scotty would be better suited. At least he has seniority. I‘m only a lieutenant! I can‘t take over as captain!”

Silence settled between them.

“Maybe,” said Jim, “you’ll be terrible. Or maybe you’ll be great.” Jim placed his hands on her slim shoulders, squeezed reassuringly and smiled. “And while I can‘t tell you that you won‘t make mistakes if you have to take over as captain I don‘t have any doubt that you can do it. Because… let me bring you in on a little command track secret.” He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “The most important part of command is _knowing_ people.” He pulled back and beamed down at her.

Uhura blinked up at that.

Jim smiled gently. “It‘s knowing how personalities mesh or clash, knowing everyone‘s strengths ad weaknesses, knowing the enemies from their actions and their words and figuring out what they‘ll do next. Then you use that knowledge and weight it against the situation before you take action. And Uhura… you can‘t tell me you don’t know how people are like, how they act, or how they think because after all you know what they say better than anyone I know.” He frowned thoughtfully. “Well all that and don‘t have a panic attack on the bridge that usually helps too.”

Uhura made a delicate snort before she gave him a grateful smile. Jim grinned right back at her and got the lift moving back to bridge.

“You‘re acting First Officer. Now stop trying to wiggle out of it and that‘s an order.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” she said respectfully.

It made Jim eye her warily until she rolled her eyes at him again.  
*-*-*-*

So then it turned out that the hours he spent scratching his head about what sort of date he could together were a waste of time when the best idea he’d ran into that day came from Sulu. Well… to be more exact from eavesdropping on him and Chekov.

“I don‘t beliewe it,” said Chekov, in fascination. “How did you manage to compensate for the air friction at that speed?”

Sulu smirked. “You got to disable the security limits of the shuttle flight program to keep them from kicking in.”

Jim had been listening absently as he scrolled down to another report until ‘disable’ and ‘security limits’ had made him look up at his helmsman with arched eyebrows.

“Don‘t worry, I‘ll show you when the shift is over,” said Sulu, enthusiastically not noticing the look that Jim was giving him. “The simulation program on the shuttles can be tweaked to replicate the same results.”

Chekov grinned back.

“I didn‘t hear that!” said Jim, to remind them where they were. That earned him unrepentant grins from both Chekov and Sulu. “But if I did…” Jim continued in his most innocent voice. “I’d think about downloading the shuttle program epsilon alpha five oh gamma instead messing with the current program in the shuttle drives. It will do the same thing and not show up in the system logs. Not that as the captain, I know about it, as I would be forced to remove the program from the databanks for safety reasons.” 

The earned him surprised blinks and then even wider smiles before Chekov began pulling up the program on the computer while Sulu looked over his shoulder. Behind Jim, Uhura sighed in exasperation while the other bridge officers chuckled. Jim shifted the chair around to wink at her. Uhura rolled her eyes but also smiled enough that Jim knew she was more amused than annoyed by his antics. The only element missing from usual dynamics of the bridge crew was the arched Vulcan eyebrow and dry comment that Jim would’ve earned for corrupting his officers with his habits of breaking regulations. The way Uhura’s gaze drifted over to the science station told Jim that he wasn’t the only one who felt that difference.

It was then that the idea sparked off in Jim’s brain which was completely brilliant in his opinion. 

The Enterprise was flying through space at warp 2. The warp bubble around the ship was big enough for a shuttle to fly around the Enterprise and not get dropped into normal space as long as they stayed close enough. So Jim could take Spock flying in a shuttle. Maybe even let him pilot it. Although Jim would insist on a quick lesson beforehand and he didn’t doubt that was all that Spock would need. The kid - the young man - was an insanely quick learner. And what teenager wouldn’t enjoy such a joy ride? Even a Vulcan one would get a kick out of it. 

The more that Jim thought about it, the more he liked the idea. It would be a great change of pace for them both. And it also appealed to the protective streak in him that Spock would know how to pilot a shuttle should something require that he make an escape from the ship. Having come up with a game plan settled down that part of his mind that had been churning out ideas and he was able enjoy the rest of Alpha shift.

Sitting in the command chair never got old.

Jim was in a good mood by the time that his shift ended and the smile he wore as he exited turbolift onto the deck holding the Science Department earned plenty of returned smiles from his crew. He was in high spirits because the meeting he had planned with all the department heads wasn’t until 1300 which gave him enough time to have lunch with Spock before his duties as captain required his entire attention again.

He didn’t find Spock in the Astrometrics Lab like he’d expected which was odd because it had been the last location the computer had provided to the boy‘s whereabouts. Jim scratched at the back of his head as he tried to figure out where Spock could be when Jim’s ears caught the sound of his voice from the direction of the Sensor Control Station. Jim followed and listened as an unfamiliar voice spoke in response.

“-and this is how you monitor the strain on the sensors. We‘ve figured out that if you alternate them every hour then the distribution is spread out evenly. We‘ve only had to replace a couple of probes along the array since we‘ve started doing the rotation at such short intervals. Otherwise we were losing entire rows at a time after four hours of continuous use. Everyone in the Science Department are morons about the limitations of hardware. When you are back in charge you should do something about that.”

“I will take that under consideration,” said Spock, his tone dryer than usual. “Thank you for the succinct explanation of the sensor systems, Ensign Tov.” 

Jim looked through the open doors and was stilled as much by the sight as the heat blasting outwards into the hallway. Spock was sitting next to a young Tellarite female who was clad in Engineering red. They were facing away from the door and towards the three large monitors showing various sensor readings.

Ensign Tov gave a small derisive snort and her snout wiggled cutely at Spock. “No thanks necessary, Commander Spock. At least with you here, I can set the temperate at something more than freezing and not have the lab geeks complain that’ll I’ll ruin their experiments. Or whatever human is around complaining that I‘m trying to melt them. And I prefer not to get stuck with some idiot who can‘t pick up a simple explanation no matter how slowly you explain it to them.”

Jim bit back a bark of laughter at how Spock blinked at her words, clearly trying to be careful in the words he‘ll chose to respond. Unlike Vulcans, Tellarites were always cantankerous and spoiling for an argument. She was actually being pretty courteous compared to practically every other Tellarite that Jim had ever met. Jim wondered if this was yet another example of how Spock’s youth had completely managed to enthrall the entire ship crew complement. Or it could just be another example of how Tellarites and Vulcans got along pretty well for two species with such opposite characteristics in temperament.

“Hey Ensign, mind if I steal Spock away for lunch?” Jim asked cheerfully.

“Jim.” The quick way that Spock spun around to face Jim told him how enthusiastic the teen was to see him ever if it wasn’t expressed in his voice or on his face. 

Jim grinned. 

“Oh, are you two really going to walking around with such dew-eyed looks on your faces? Because I got to tell you that just seeing you for a few seconds is making me sick,” grumbled Ensign Tov, the small shape of her eyes appeared even smaller as she squinted at them. “Go away before I throw up all over the sensor controls. It will ruin the sensor rotation.”

Jim blinked at her in surprise and he was horrified to feel the beginning of a blush blooming on his cheeks.

“Very well, Ensign Tov, we will leave you to work in peace.” agreed Spock and all but tugged Jim away. 

They were on the turbolift with the doors closing when they heard, “Superior officers?! Ha! If they were really superior they would already be rolling in b-”

Now, Jim knew he was actually full out blushing. He made a mental note to _avoid_ that part of the Science Department. At least until he got back a Spock that hearing such comments about were more likely to make him leer than blush. 

“Ensign Tov‘s is most…” trailed off Spock.

“Yeah, ” agreed Jim. He shook his head ruefully and laughed, “Let‘s go get lunch.”  
*-*-*-*

They were both nearly done with their meals before Jim brought up part of his plan to Spock. This time the replicator had created a Vulcan dish that Kirk didn’t recognize. It had been surprisingly spicy and for once Spock had been the one to explain to Jim how to eat it.

“-so I figured we could continue our exploration of the ship after my meeting with the department heads,” finished Jim. He popped the last piece bread covered in the thinnest possible amount of the Vulcan vegetable spread into his mouth. The burn was lot less now though Jim suspected it was more because he’d destroyed his taste buds with that first unsuspecting bite than because he’d finally gotten used to it. He made a mental note of the name of the dish so he could have an unsuspecting Bones give it a try.

Good friends shared these sort of experiences. 

Spock tilted his head, a flash of puzzlement in his eyes. “Do you have sufficient time to spend on such a frivolous activity? I have no need to be kept entertained.”

“Even captains need down time,” said Jim. He didn’t mention the rest of plan because Jim wanted the shuttle ride to be a surprise. Admittedly he was also still reluctant to call it a date when Spock was barely even fifteen years old. He was beginning to suspect that it was less a mental hurdle and more a mental Mount Olympus, the biggest mountain on the Mars Colony.

“It would be more pleasing to spend more time together,” Spock said calmly. 

Jim nodded back with equal calm, suppressing his own wide grin. “Great!”  
*-*-*-*

Jim was nearly late to the meeting again although this time it wasn’t his fault at all. The training simulations being run by Security meant that they’d taken over a couple of decks. To keep it as realistic as possible everyone was kept from entering them while the tactical teams went through their paces. Even a captain had to find an alternative path around them since Security had also commandeered the closest turbolift.

“Alright,” said Jim as he walked into the conference room. “Lets start this. And considering what I just ran into why don’t you give me your report first, Cupcake.” That earned Jim the usual glower from security officer. The man loved him, really.

“Aye, aye, Moonbeam,” said Freeman as he touched the screen of his PADD to bring up a video on the large monitor. “So far this is the biggest problem we‘ve been running into during out the simulations.” The video showed several green clad security officers running into crewmembers. Some of the ‘Orions’ shot the crew while others captured them. “This was the run where the my officers were given free reign to act as the enemy and the crew were unarmed. A lot of them took the initiative to take hostages.” Everyone at the table murmured. Cupcake nodded at Uhura. “They read the report you put together for me about Orion culture. Thank you again, Lieutenant Uhura. It gave them idea that they could take our crew members as ‘spoils’ during this fight.”

Damn. Jim hadn’t considered that possibility when he’d been formulating the plan of attack. He’d been thinking that the Enterprise would remain the primary target but the capture of his crew was more than entirely possible too. They had no facts to eliminate that possibility, after all. And while they were running on a lot of assumptions this one was supported by Starfleet knowledge of Orions. This was why they ran simulations and why the security forces were trained to think about offense and defense from the Security Chief down to the newest ensign.

Cupcake expression remained grim. “My officers were certain that the Orions would take the chance to take slaves for their markets while they could. And that their ship has the transport capabilities to take our fellow crew members right off the ship if our shields are down which they will have to be if we want them to board the ship.”

“We need to come up with a way to block their transporters,” said Sulu.

“The problem is that we can‘t do that right away,” said Cupcake. “Not without tipping our hands that we‘re not as dead in the water as we seem to be.”

Double damn it.

Scotty swore under his breath. Chekov absently murmured something too low for Jim to catch. 

“What was that Ensign?” asked Jim. 

“Keptin, we could use subcutaneous transponders.”

“We don‘t ‘ave enough rubidium crystals transponders for the entire crew, laddie,” said Scotty, shaking his head. “And I don‘t think that the station will ’ave any those crystals are too specialized.”

“Chekov‘s right,” said Jim, furiously thinking. “We don‘t need everyone to have one. We just need enough for everyone that could possibly come into contact with the Orions.” 

“The Science Department has a couple hundred,” offered Hernandez. He started tapping away at his PADD. “Which should make about a hundred transponders at top efficiency.”

Jim gave everyone at the table a somber look. “This is why we have to plan this carefully so we know exactly what time window we need to make this work. We‘ll also need to keep some of the decks off-limits to the Orions to make sure that everyone who isn‘t getting a transponder to stay away from them. We need to be able to get any of our people back if they get taken.” He hated - absolutely hated - the idea that his people could be grabbed and he sure as hell wouldn’t still be going through with this plan is he also wasn’t just as certain that it was necessary.

“Aye, that we can do,” said Scotty thoughtfully. “We can set up the door sensors so that it shows that some of the decks are full of vacuum. That should keep the Orions away from them.”

“And with a stasis field we can even mute any life signs,” said McCoy firmly. He grimaced. “But that won‘t last too long if we stretch it out across several decks like that.”

“How long, Bones?”

McCoy gave Jim a disgusted look. “Do I look like an engineer to you?”

“Well if I tilt my head and squint…” Jim grinned. McCoy sighed in exasperation. “So Scotty, how long could we run a stasis field over several decks?”

Scotty snorted in amusement. “Only about an ‘our if ye want to cover more than one deck at once. We don‘t ‘ave enough units on board but those we can get at the station and we could get enough to run them for months.”

Jim grinned. “Excellent, add it to the shopping list.” He turned back to Cupcake. “What else did you get from the simulations?”

“That we need to make the inside of the ship look as beat up as the outside if we‘re going to successfully trick the borders,” said Cupcake. “We need to start prepping the hallways to look damaged.”

Jim nodded. “Maintenance already got their orders to start changing the look of the halls.”

“Then we‘re set on that count,” said Cupcake. He tapped on his PADD again. “You should be getting the finalized security teams by tonight, including the incorporated medical personnel.” He gave McCoy a steady look. “Your people did good like they‘ve been training for it.”

McCoy just smirked.

“I want everyone that could come in contact with the Orions to get those transponders,” said Jim. “How soon can get them ready?”

“We can have half of them done in twenty-four hours,” said Hernandez, as he tapped his PADD. “Medical can start the surgeries tomorrow evening.”

“Good,” said Jim. “I want every command officer to have one as well as everyone on the security teams.”

“We‘ll start sending out the surgery timeslot to everyone in the morning,” agreed McCoy. He gave Jim a sharp glance. “You‘re first.”

Jim nodded. Then he looked at Scotty. “And how are the mines coming?”

Scotty grinned and launched into his own report. 

Jim was thoroughly impressed and more than a little worried at how many mines the Engineering Department managed to churn out over less than a day. 

_Do we really carry enough explosive material on the ship to produce 97 bombs so quickly?_ , Jim wondered as Scotty began to wrap up. And then promptly decided that he didn’t want to know. While officially he didn’t know that Scotty had an illegal distillery somewhere on the ship even if he often sampled the products of that labor, he really didn’t want to know if explosive factory was also on the list of things Scotty was manufacturing without permission. He just had to trust that Scotty wouldn’t let it blow up the ship.

Well… unless Jim ordered it done on purpose.

The rest of the meeting went on with relative ease as there wasn’t much of anything new to report from the other departments other than the update on their combat readiness. Every crew member and all equipment had been cleared across the board. Even medical had released a couple of patients with colds back to their own rooms to convalesce in case those med beds were needed. The only disappointment came from the sensors continual inability to get a lock on the Orion scout ship. Even at max sensitivity all they had been able to pick up were faint diffused trails but Jim had figured it wasn’t going to be easy.

Even though Jim left the meeting with these thoughts rolling around his head and a PADD full of reports he needed to read later in the evening he found himself walking with a bounce in his step. That bounce was joined by a wide smile by the time Jim arrived at his quarters. He wasn’t at all surprised when he found Spock sitting on one of the chairs by the wide window showing a field of streaking stars and his PADD in his hands. 

Right on the heels of his delight came the startling realization that if Spock hadn’t been there then he’d have felt disappointed to an irrational degree. _I’m getting too used to this,_ Jim thought somberly. _I think it’s actually going to hurt when it stops._

Spock looked over as soon as the door hissed open. “Greetings, Jim.”

Jim dredged up a slight smile. “Hello to you too, Spock.”

Spock eyed him with a degree of contemplation that made Jim feel like an experiment that managed to produce an unexpected result. It made his smile widen with sincere amusement.  
“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

 _Am **I** ready?_ Jim thought before giving himself a mental kick. “Okay, lets go.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For everyone that's been wanting more. I'm sorry it took so long. I hope you enjoy this!

More than once during their tour of the ship, Jim thought up and discarded several different ways to tell the kid—young man!-- that he wanted to turn their outing into a date. The words didn’t make it past Jim’s throat before he choked on them. 

_I can face certain death without hesitation,_ Jim thought in bewilderment. _I can command a Federation starship like I was born to it. And this is what proves to be too much?_

Any illusion that Jim had held before about being seductive and unflappable with anyone and anything, as he’d boasted on more than one occasion (and on more than one planet) were completely and utterly destroyed. He’d met his match. 

_Bones is going to laugh himself sick._

“Jim, do you need to attend to your duties?”

Jim jerked over to look at Spock, who was eying him with serene contemplation as they walked alongside each other towards the turbolift which would take them down to the Enterprise's shuttle bay.

So... game time. 

“What – err – no, I'm mean – my duties are fine,” Jim said quickly. “I'm off-duty right now, unless I'm called up to the bridge for something.” Technically, the Captain was never off -duty unless he was on leave from the ship, since during his off hours any priority situation could bring Jim back on-duty. But this was arguing semantics.

“You appear unusually distracted.”

“You think so?” Jim asked, only concentrated effort kept him from sounding nervous. _Argh! Enough! Time to captain up!_ Exasperated with himself, Jim thumped himself on the face and looked at Spock through his spread fingers. “Okay, I totally suck at this.” Jim dropped his hand and tried a wobbly smile. It felt rather fake so he stopped after a second. “I have a surprise. Well, not much of one _now_. I thought we could make this last free day we have together... special. I– um...”

Jim could read faint bafflement in Spock's eyebrows as they furrowed a little.

“You're not really a kid anymore,” Jim started saying just as the turbolift doors opened showing two Security officers, an Andorian and a human, in the lift. They walked past with respectful acknowledging nods to their commanding officers. Jim returned the nods, feeling a blush threatening to manifest on his cheeks at how close he'd come to being overheard. 

Jim stepped into the turbolift, quickly joined by Spock. He waited until the doors closed before he said, “So I thought I'd take you out. On a date.”

For a frankly terrifying moment, the only noise in the turbolift came from the lift as it moved down at least until it came to an abrupt stop.

“Jim.”

Jim blinked in surprise at the hoarseness at Spock's voice. He turned to see that Spock's hand was on the emergency manual stop. The ki– teenager was regarding him with... well, Jim had never seen that particular look in Spock's eyes, it was a heated gaze... almost smoldering. 

Holy crap.

“You no longer see me as a child?” Spock asked, as he took a step closer.

“I'm trying not to,” Jim admitted, resisting the urge to back away. Was the turbolift always to cramped? And overheated? He really need to talk to Scotty about the temperature controls.

Spock took other step closer. 

Abruptly, Jim realized that Spock was taller than he'd been a few moments ago. Now, he was only an inch or so from being able to look at Jim straight in the eyes.

Spock stared at him. “Then I accept.”

“Yeah?” Jim asked, trying for calm even as relief surged in his gut. Hell, he didn't realize how worried he'd been. Had he actually thought Spock would turn him down, even knowing about the teen's crush? Apparently, he had. Huh.

“We have to return to my quarters.”

“What?!” Jim yelped, panicked. “This is only a first date! No bases are gonna happen! We're not even making it off home plate!”

Spock quirked an eyebrow. He said, “I merely wish to change my attire. A first date, according to my research, is of utmost importance to human courting. Therefore, I believe it is necessary that my clothing reflect the expectations of such an event.”

“Oh, right, good point,” Jim said, flushing in embarrassment. He took over the turbolift controls to bring them back up to the correct deck. 

“What significance does the Earth sport of baseball to do with--”

“Nothing!” Jim said brightly, cutting Spock off. Fortunately, the turbolift doors opened before Spock could ask any more questions, although from the way both eyebrows edged up Spock's brow, the teen semed to have figured out that Jim was lying like a rug. 

“I should change too,” Jim continued, hoping to distract him from asking more questions which Jim was in no way prepared to answer. “Say we meet again in 10 minutes?”

“That is acceptable,” Spock said, nodding. He turned and walked to his quarters. 

Jim sighed in relief.

Two minutes later, he was standing in the middle of his room, staring blankly at the selection of non-Starfleet issue clothing he had. 

_When did nearly everything I own become uniform?_ Jim asked himself, horrified. 

Okay, he'd never been a clothes horse, and he had arrived at the Academy with only the clothes on his back, but... only four shirts? One which was a gag-gift from Bones. Another one which had picked up a large tear which Jim couldn't even remember getting. And three pants? One blue denim, one black denim and the other black leather, which Jim would not be wearing because those were only for when he went out looking to get laid.

Jim wasn't even counting his 'Gets-Me-Lucky' leather jacket.

Dismayed, at the meager pickings and resolving to do something about it at some point in the future, Jim took a quick peek at the overwhelming selections of clothing available on the menu of the replicator. He scrolled for several seconds, wasting precious seconds before giving up and running to the com-unit.

“Bones! Help!” Jim yelled, as soon as the computer indicated the call had connected.

“Jesus! Jim, are you dying? What did you eat? I'll be right there!”

“There's no time! I've 6 minutes left! I need clothes to wear!”

On the screen of the com-unit, McCoy's worried expression froze for a split second before turning blank. “What?” he croaked out.

“This was your idea!” Jim said frantically. “Help me! 5.5 minutes.”

“Oh, for the love of-- Did you ask the kid on a date _without_ first figuring this nonsense out?”

“Maybe... okay, yes. I know. Stupid. Call me names later. Help now!”

McCoy eye-rolled so hard that Jim half-expected him to start complaining about straining them. 

“Fine,” said McCoy, grumpily. His tapped on his own com-unit with his brows furrowed in concentration for several seconds as Jim paced. “Here, this is good. Classy even, which is more than I can say about you.”

Jim's com-unit beeped to indicate the arrival of a message.

“Thanks, Bones!” said Jim, ignoring the insult which... was kinda true. “I owe you one.”

“You owe me a couple dozen at this point. You'll rue the day, I collect. And I will collect,” McCoy retorted. He moved to shut down the call but he paused and smirked. “Have fun storming the Jailbait castle.”

Jim sputtered and couldn't even get out a coherent protest before McCoy ended the call, chuckling like an evil sonuvabitch.

Muttering threats about confiscating Bones' brandy whenever he had free moment (and a fool-proof escape plan possibly to the Gamma Quadrant), Jim started the replicator without bothering to look the outfit over. He trusted Bones. 

His best friend proved his trust in him again. He'd pretty much sent an outfit that reminded Jim of the sort of a classic version of his usual bar clothes, but toned down to fit Jim's taste. Dark blue blazer, gray denim jeans, nice black leather shoes, and a white silk button-up shirt which felt great against Jim's skin. Jim ignored the tie and left the top two buttons open.

With three minutes to go, Jim raced into the newly replicated clothes, cursing the fact that his skill at speed undressing didn't translate to speed dressing. He ran his fingers through his hair, ignoring the 5 o'clock stubble because he had no time and was out the door with seconds to spare.

Spock was waiting in front of door just out of range of the door's sensors, facing away from Jim. His clasped hands resting on the small of his back. When Spock turned to face him, Jim came to an abrupt stop. Because... for once, ever since he'd seen Spock as a toddler practically swimming in the uniform of his Science blues, Spock didn't look like a kid.

He was wearing formal Vulcan clothes, which clad him in black from head to toe. Gold Vulcan script in gorgeous calligraphy was stitched at the neck and also on his left side of chest. Folds of cloth highlighted the width of his shoulders and the length of his torso. The layers of cloth gave added weight to his skinny growing frame. All in all, he looked like the young man that Jim had been struggling to think him as being. 

He looked so achingly like his First Officer at first glance that Jim had to do a double-take to take in the slighter build, and the lower height which indicated Spock's youth.

“Jim,” Spock said in greeting, his voice cracking before it settled into a deeper register. “Your clothing is most pleasing.”

“Thanks, Spock,” Jim said, getting past the lump in his throat at the reminder of the lack of a correctly aged Spock. Instead he smiled, pleased at the compliment. Bones had earned a reprieve from getting his alcohol confiscated. “Um, yours are too.”

Spock's brown eyes gleamed in that pleased way that Jim loved. Unable to help himself, Jim reached over to tug Spock's elbow to encourage him to follow.

“Let's go to the shuttle bay,” said Jim, happily. His previous worry about this date felt ridiculous now. He wasn't going to do anything to hurt Spock and Spock wouldn't push past Jim's own comfort level, at least not with anything that would really freak Jim out. The depth of his certainty cheered him up. 

“The shuttle bay?” 

“You'll see!” Jim grinned.

*-*-*-*

“Fascinating,” Spock murmured, as he sat in front of shuttle controls. He turned to where Jim sat beside him as copilot. “Are there not several safety protocols in place which do not recommend the operation of a shuttle while a ship is in warp?”

Jim smirked, “For civilians, Spock. I'm not a civilian. Anyway, it's much safer than piloting a ship in the middle of a firefight. No one's going to be shooting at us, for one.”

“That would be preferable.” 

Spock's tone was so dry that Jim snickered before he said. “I promise I won't get you killed.”

“I know.”

Jim looked up from the shuttle controls of the Galileo, where he'd been inputting the necessary steps to clear the bay for their exit, to see the calm acceptance on Spock's face. Jim's smirk softened into a fond smile. 

It took another minute before the all-clear came through from the bay attendant, and Jim brought up the display on the shuttle screen which showed the edges of the warp bubble in bright red, as well as the degree of severity of spacial distortion they had to avoid which were colored in pumpkin orange.

Jim slowly brought out the Galileo out of the shuttle bay.

He turned the shuttle so that the screen showed the graceful slope of the Enterprise's back. Jim followed that enticing line, until the saucer section filled the screen. He turned the shuttle to the side, flying below the saucer section, until they cleared the Enterprise and all that they could see was the red glow of the warp bubble and the streaking stars which now looked pink. 

Certain that they were right at the nose of the Enterprise, Jim turned the shuttle around until they faced her. Jim sighed blissfully at the sight of his ship, her blued nacelles brushed highlights into her skin turning it silver. The black letters marking her name and service number were like a tattoo on her skin. One flashed to the universe with unflinching pride.

Beautiful.

“Your ship is very aesthetically pleasing,” said Spock, quietly.

“Our ship. She's our ship, Spock. Filled with our crew,” Jim said, tearing his eyes away. “You may not remember but she's yours too.” 

Spock didn't protest, he simply tilted his head to the side as he considered the thought.

Having fulfilled the urge to look at his ship, Jim maneuvered the Galileo around until the shuttle hovered right above the saucer section, giving them a clear view of space before he shut off displays which were turning everything red-tinged and locked them into a stationary position. With the Enterprise below, and out of sight of the screen, the view outside gave the illusion they were the only two beings warping through space. 

Jim turned to Spock, rubbing his hands eagerly. “How much shuttle piloting experience do you have?”

“A minimal amount,” Spock admitted. “Although, the simulations I have studied in the past were for Vulcan designed ships.”

“Then lets get you started on some Starfleet ones,” Jim said, turning on the training program which could be run even when the shuttle was active. It was a special feature for Starfleet. Since training could take place at any time, shuttles had many programs in their core which put officers through their paces. Plus those programs were always a great way to kill time during long trips via shuttle when starships weren't around to play taxi cab.

The screen slowly darkened until it was opaque. 

“Go ahead,” said Jim, as he sat back in the chair. 

Unflinchingly, Spock gave the shuttle controls a swift glance and settled his hands into place. “Computer, begin the simulation,” he said.

Forty minutes later, Jim gave a low whistle of appreciation as Spock cleared the simulated obstacle course through a debris field without so much as nicking the shuttle.

“Wow. There's no way you've never piloted a shuttle before. I never got a score that good until my third try!” said Jim, shaking his head in disbelief.

“There are far more similarities between Starfleet shuttles and Vulcan ones, than I had anticipated,” said Spock thoughtfully as the simulation ended. Then he glanced at Jim, and he arched an eyebrow as he said, “Or this level's difficult is not as high as you indicated.”

“Ooh, did you just challenge me, Mr. Spock?” Jim laughed, as he brought up another program. 

Spock went on looking like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, although one corner of his mouth went up for brief moment.

Oh, yeah. It was on!

They chased each other across simulated space, over planets and through nebula dust. The split-screen, and the divided shuttle controls allowing Jim to dodge Spock's fire before he turned the tables and hunted him. 

At least until Spock caught him between his sights and a white dwarf star, causing Jim's shuttle to suffer catastrophic failure in the star's corona.

“Aw, dammit,” Jim laughed, as the screen indicated he'd died. He grinned, turned to Spock and pointed at the teenager. “You owe me a rematch. That had to be beginner's luck!”

“Luck is illogical,” said Spock, his dark eyes gleaming. “But I accept your challenge.”

Spock thoroughly thrashed him on the second round. But Jim was able to salvage some of his pride by trouncing him on the third. 

“Yeah!” Jim shouted, fist pumping in victory as Spock's simulated shuttle broke apart as it impacted into a moon, it's damaged engine unable to escape the weak gravity field. 

Jim turned to see Spock watching him intently. 

“Next time Sulu and Chekov have one of their simulation marathons you're going to be my partner,” said Jim, as he raised his hands over his head to stretch out his shoulders. “We'll be kings of the Shuttle Wars, baby!”

Spock nodded. “That is agreeable. Any time I spend with you is most satisfying.”

Oh, man. Those words hit Jim right at his weak points. Oh, hell, he still wasn't used to it. He could feel a blush start to heat his cheeks. He ducked his head. “Yeah. Same with you. Spending time with you, I mean.”

The silence which took over the shuttle way wasn't exactly uncomfortable, Jim was having too good a time, but it wasn't exactly relaxing either. 

Jim was abruptly aware that he hadn't actually planned out this date terribly well, not having thought of what they'd do after they were done with the shuttle. He honestly hadn't thought they'd be done so fast. He thought he could be excused. This was the first honest date he'd had in... damn, nearly ten years. The last date he's been on he'd been fifteen with Julie Vega before Tars—The Year that Didn't Happen. He hadn't had any since and Jim wasn't counting his numerous one night stands. Even the most generous objective observer wouldn't call them dates.

Jim fiddled with the controls, making the screen display normal space again even as he scrolled through the program menu, just to find something to do.

Heated, dry fingers stilled his hands. Startled, Jim all but leaped onto the ceiling in his surprise before he stared wide-eyed at Spock. He'd jerked his hands from the teen's touch, but it felt like it lingered on his skin.

Spock's cheeks and the tips of his ears were flushed a faint green but he met Jim's eyes without embarrassment. He just raised his an eyebrow at Jim's stunned expression. “According to human courting rituals, hand holding is acceptable on a first date, is it not?”

 _That sneaky little--_ Jim arched his eyebrows. “You know, that may have worked. If you hadn't already told me that Vulcans _kiss_ with their hands.” He pointed at finger at Spock's unrepentant face. “I'm on to you. No secretly groping me on the first date!”

Spock didn't even blink. “Human courting rituals are numerous and varied. There are multiple cultures from Earth which allow for such an exchange of intimacies during—”

“Nice try,” said Jim, unable to resist a chuckle at Spock's persistence. “But you're still way younger than me. We're keeping this strictly PG.” Spock's puzzlement at the phrase made Jim laugh even as he said, “That mean's Mr. Handsy, that you're keeping your kissing fingers away from my hands.”

Spock's eyes dropped down to Jim's hand which was still pointing at him. A flash of heat crossed his expression so quickly Jim nearly missed it. Yet it was the lingering intensity of his gaze which flustered Jim, making his drop his hand to his sides awkwardly. If Spock had only been his actual age, he'd have no hesitations about what to do next. Seriously, his First Officer would've had no idea what would have hit him had he been the one offering Jim a kiss. But it wasn't the adult version making these overtures. Mentally, Jim swore at universe for putting him in this situation. 

Teenaged Spock didn't frown, but he gave the general impression of wanting to do so. 

“Very well, Jim,” he said slowly, “my knowledge of human courtship rituals is limited to what my research has uncovered. As I have no personal experience, I will acknowledge your superior experience in these matters.” 

“Okay, rule one: no kissing on the first date,” Jim said sagely, nodding his head even as he frantically tried to remember how this dating thing worked again. He was almost certain that first dates did allow kisses. At least, he couldn't remember any date from his teenaged years that hadn't ended involved it at one point or another. With plenty of groping to boot. But he sure as hell wasn't about to tell Spock that.

“If I refrain from making any improper gesture, may I be allowed to touch you?”

 _Yeah, because that doesn't sound inappropriate at all!_ Jim thought, a little hysterically. Somewhere out there in the vastness of space, some god-like being was laughing his –or her— head off at sticking James 'Tomcat' Kirk in a situation where he acted like a Victorian era prude. Of his _own_ free will! 

Jim rubbed at his eyes. “Okay, I've been avoiding asking. But how old are you at the moment, Spock?”

Spock did frown a little bit this time. A fleeting micro-expression which tugged at the corners of his lips. He was silent for a long second before he grudgingly answered, “I am currently 15 years, 8 months, 3 weeks and 7.87 hours old.”

Jim controlled wince. He'd been hoping Spock had been older than that by now. “Well... since you're below the age of majority for your culture and mine--”

“While, it is true that I'm not considered an adult by Vulcan or human standards,” Spock interrupted, “by the Vulcan standards I would already be betrothed to marry. A date by comparison is not so great in the level of commitment expected from the participants.”

“Hmm, true,” said Jim, noncommittally. “But, that's sort of the reason human take it slow, to come to those sort of decisions of who to marry because our parents don't arrange our marriages anymore.” At least that's how Jim assumed it worked. Although from the alcoholic complaints, and bitterness he'd got earfuls of with Bones, even that tactic didn't always work. “And since between the two of us, we're more than 50% human, were sticking to the human style.”

Spock stilled and Jim could practically see the speed of his thought processes speed up. “That... is logical,” he said finally.

Jim nearly sighed in relief but managed to hold it back at the last second. 

Yet... Spock looked so disappointed, in his very stoic Vulcan way, that Jim felt a stab of guilt. Spock was right about one thing. This was a date. Jim had said so after all. No matter how weirded out he was by Spock's current age, _he'd_ been the one to do the asking.

So... this whole situation was his responsibility. He should be taking Spock's feelings seriously.

Jim, probably more than any other human except possibly Uhura, had first hand experience of the depths of the emotions which Spock felt. And he wasn't thinking about that day on the bridge when he'd pushed Spock past the point of tolerance. No, he was thinking of the emotional transference he'd gotten from the mind-meld with the alternate version of Spock. And while Jim was still pretty damned certain his First Officer felt nothing but the very beginnings of friendship for Jim that didn't mean that teenaged Spock's feelings were any less valid.

“So... going by human standards,” Jim said slowly. “I guess that means we can hold hands.”

Spock straightened fully in his seat, making Jim realize exactly how much he'd been slumping from Jim's words. 

Jim held out his right hand. “But I meant it about no Vulcan groping,” he added warningly, as Spock reached out to him.

Spock said softly. “That is acceptable.”

As his heated hand grasped Jim's own, he could feel the affect of the age jump as Spock's hand went from being nearly the same size to Spock having longer fingers as they entwined with Jim's fingers. Jim was a psi-null and couldn't feel anything from Spock's side but he sent along every drop of affection through to him. No matter what his confusion, that at least that hadn't changed at all.

They stayed like that for... well, Jim honestly didn't know. He had no internal chronometer like Vulcan, but it felt like an hour as Spock's eyes gleamed with muted pleasure and the smallest smile curved at the corner of his mouth.

They just stared at each other.

At least until Jim's stomach reminded them both that he hadn't fed it since lunch and it was long overdue to get dinner.

“We should return to the Enterprise so you can acquire substance,” Spock said calmly. Yet he made no move to loosen his handhold.

Jim cleared his throat. “Okay, you're gonna have to help me pilot the shuttle back. I seemed to have lost the use of a hand.”

“It is only temporarily situation,” Spock said. “But until your recovery, I will provide assistance.”

Jim was amused he didn't do the logical thing and let him go so he could pilot with both hands. But he was also kinda happy about it too, and firmed his grip on Spock's hand as they worked as one to bring the Galileo back home.


	26. Chapter 26

Almost as soon the shuttle bay had finished moving, Rand was waiting outside the shuttle doors. Jim saw her blue eyes flicker down to his and Spock's joined hands when they came out. A small smile swept across her face before she suppressed it, but it showed deepened crinkles around her blue eyes.

Jim glowered at her, daring her to say something. 

“Captain,” she said, crisply. Her tone was completely professional even as her eyes danced. “I need your authorization on an urgent requisition from Medical.”

Jim blinked in surprise. He asked skeptically, “Really?”

Medical was probably the only department on the ship which Jim didn't have to authorize requisitions for. The CMO took care of all of it since urgent medical situations were prioritized. Bones, having the responsibility of the health of the crew on his shoulders, could get anything he wanted to be brought onboard as long as it had some kind of medical application. Or at least he _claimed_ it had a medical application. Two words: medicinal brandy.

“Aye, Captain,” said Rand, as she held out the PADD to him.

Jim released Spock's hand and scanned the screen, nearly dropping it in his surprise.

'Jim, there's dinner set up for you and the mini-hobgoblin in observation room in Deck 6. You owe another one. Now, get your skinny ass over there before it gets cold. - McCoy'

 _Damn, Bones is awesome... and he's totally gonna own my ass by the time I'm thirty at the rate I'm owing him favors._ Jim suppressed a horrified shudder at the thought of being his friend's guinea pig for who knew how long into the unforeseeable future. Jim tapped on the screen to write a quick thank you and passed the PADD back to Rand. “Pass that back to McCoy, would you yeoman?”

“Aye, sir,” Rand said. She flashed Spock a quick smile before turning and speeding off on her 'I'm-Unstoppable' walking pace.

“So, I have another surprise!” Jim said, grinning at Spock. He held out his hand, his palm already feeling cold without Spock's touch. 

Spock took it even as he raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry.  
*-*-*-*

“Okay... this is were I admit that I didn't actually set this up,” Jim said slowly, as he and Spock stood in the double-doorway of the observation lounge. 

Jim boggled at the transformed lounge. Instead of a neat room with different sized furniture, which ranged from long couches to single armchairs and low tables, all the furniture had been removed from their bolted positions on the deck. In their place there was a single small round table covered in a long white tablecloth, with two high-backed wooden chairs. Next to the table stood a large rolling cart loaded with food trays covered in polished silver cloches. The entire room was dark except for tiny white lights, which reminded Jim of small Christmas lights, that were scattered all over the floor, the walls and even hung from the ceiling. Combined with the view of the streaking stars through the windows, it created a rather good illusion that the table was floating in space. 

There was even soft music playing. It sounded to Jim's ear like some kind of acoustic guitar although he wasn't certain since his musical tastes ran to loud, frentic and older than warp travel. And the kicker, at least to Jim's mind – and he knew exactly _who_ was the meddling yeoman behind it - was a single long stemmed red rose in full bloom in a slender glass vase on the middle of the table. It was braced by two tapered white candles on silver candlesticks on the middle of the table. 

The candles were already lit as if someone had run ahead.

Jim was probably the most romance blind human in existence but even he could tell this was epic for a first date dinner.

“Most impressive,” Spock said after taking it all in.

“Yeah, you can say that again,” agreed Jim, thoroughly impressed. Was it possible to give Rand and Bones a raise for this? Hell, he was treating everyone involved to a couple rounds on him in the next shore leave. This was so much better than anything he could've thought up, even if he'd gotten a week to plan it out.

No matter who often he said or thought it, it still applied: he had the _best_ and most amazing crew in the Federation.

“Most impressive,” Spock repeated, deadpan.

Jim startled into laughter, and dragged the teen into the room. “Keep that up, and I'll never believe you when you say you don't get human humor.”

“I do not. Human humor is most complex and the subtleties often escape my understanding,” Spock replied at once, but a faint quirk of his lips gave him away.

“Well, you don't have to worry about that with me, I'm not exact a subtle guy,” Jim said, as he popped off one cloche. The buttery garlic scent which accompanied the white curlicues of steam coming off the polenta with shiitake mushrooms was so delicious that Jim's mouth started watering at once. Jim swallowed the veritable flood in his mouth.

“Your mind is intriguing and complex. It does not lack for subtlety,” Spock said calmly, even as he leaned to sniff at the air.

Jim felt his cheeks heat. _Man, he's good for my ego. Bones may never forgive him if my head gets any bigger._

Spock turned to him, his eyebrow rising. “How would the circumference of your head increase?”

Jim startled, until he remembered Vulcan's touch-telepathy did mean words would be picked up along with emotions. “It's just a saying. Let's eat!” 

Now, to figure out how to feed his grumbling belly with only one hand and not make a mess.  
*-*-*-*

“Captain Kirk, you are needed on the bridge. Captain Kirk, you are needed on the bridge.”

Jim paused in the middle of the story he'd been telling Spock. He'd been sharing more of himself, feeling oddly like he should considering that he'd been learning a lot about Spock in the past several days without really reciprocating. And wasn't that the point of dating, anyway?

So he'd talked about his happier memories in Riverside, also explaining one of the reasons (he had several, actually) as to how he'd developed a record as a repeat offender by the age of fifteen. Spock had been hilariously, appalled – in a very Vulcan way, of course – at learning Jim had picked up a habit of breaking into the cars of strangers for joyrides whenever he was bored which had been quite often. At least, whenever he wasn't blowing something up (reason number two). 

Jim had just finished laughingly explaining that he learned to steal cars that he knew had something wrong with them so that when he returned them in better condition the owners rarely reported him – because otherwise his record would have been five times longer – when the call from the bridge came in.

Jim untangled his fingers from Spock's with a flash of regret as he got up to acknowledge the call.

“Bridge, I'm on my way. Kirk out,” Jim said, as he signed off the comm. 

He turned to Spock, who looked back at him with an expressionless face.

“Oh man, I really hate to cut this short but–”

“I understand, Jim,” said Spock, interrupting him. “You are the Captain. As such your duties to the ship are a priority. You do not need to feel any negative emotions over this need. It only logical to shorten a social engagement.”

Jim studied Spock's expression but he couldn't read any tell on his still face which indicated that Spock was being anything other than sincere. He was instantly relieved that the teen understood. It had been his experience that not may civilians got it when he had to run off in the middle of… things. Most got pretty mad at him. And while he would've been pretty confident with his First Officer understanding having to cut the date short, he hadn't prepared to say the same of the teenaged Spock. 

You'd think he would've learned to stop underestimating him after all this time of getting to know the young man.

“Thanks, Spock,” said Jim, smilingly even as he turned to head out. He paused at the double doors. “We definitely need to do this again.”

“Agreed.” 

The firm agreement was the last thing Jim heard as he broke into a jog for the nearest turbolift. Crew flattened themselves to the side to get out of his way. He popped out of the turbolift and onto the bridge less than three minutes after the comm call.

“Captain on the bridge,” said Ensign Sakamoto, the communications officer of Beta shift. His voice was like a deep bell, catching the attention off all the bridge officers. 

A couple of the crew did double-takes as seeing Jim in civvies but they went back to their jobs without any other reaction.

“Captain,” said Uhura, relief showing in her eyes even as she kept it out of her voice. She stood up from the captain's chair so Jim could settle into place. She stayed next to him, standing right at his side as she said, “Lt. Hernandez has confirmed a sensor lock on the Orion ship.”

Jim turned in the chair to face the science station. He said grimly, “Show me, Lt. Hernandez.”

“Aye, sir. On screen now.”

The bridge's large vid-screen instantly showed the display from the science station. And specifically a muted glowing orange dot, that could have been confused for a star by the naked eye, if it hadn't been keeping pace with the Enterprise at warp.

This confirmed it. They were being stalked by an Orion ship. Whatever 'ifs' and 'maybes' they'd been tossing about no longer applied. This was the predator that was waiting for the Enterprise to be at her most vulnerable before it attacked.

 _Well, not on **my** watch. And sure as hell not **my** ship,_ Jim thought furiously. 

“Can you focus in for a closer look?” Jim asked after a beat of silence. 

“The sensors have shown that it's keeping its distance a full parsec away from the Enterprise,” explained Hernandez. “The distance and the speed we're traveling is keeping me from getting any better data than this image, Captain.”

“At least, we know it's there,” said Uhura, crossing her arms as she glared at the image.

“Uhura, I want the all departments on standby alert,” ordered Jim. 

“Aye aye, Captain,” she said. She turned to the communication's station, and Jim saw her visibly restrain herself from taking over from Ensign Sakamoto as she passed along Jim's order. 

Jim would've preferred to call red alert or even yellow alert right then and there but the automatic defenses which kicked in during these alert signals would've let the Orion's know that something was up. They couldn't let the other ship realize they'd been detected. Not when they were still crippled and several days away from Cygnet XIV and the system's starbase.

Jim put in call directly Engineering. “Scotty, I want us to go to warp 3. Will sustained warp 3 be a problem?”

“Nae, captain!” Scotty replied at once. “But I sure wouldnae go higher than that. I mean it! We 'ave the math for the stressors down to ten decimal places. All our numbers agree on that point. Warp 3, aye. warp 4, only for five minutes at a time or the Enterprise suffers catastrophic failure in the nacelle.”

“Okay, thank you, Scotty. Kirk out,” Jim said. He looked up. “Helmsman McKenna, bring us to warp factor 3.”

“Warp factor 3. Aye aye, Captain,” McKenna said, his fingers flying over the helm controls.

Jim leaned back on the chair, mentally doing the math for the changed navigation. Traveling at warp three would cut down their travel time to three more days –or 2.97326 days as Spock would've said had been on the bridge to correct him- during which the Orion's would need keep their distance. 

Alarmed by a sudden thought, Jim asked, “Hernandez, could they have detected our sensor sweeps?”

“Doubtful, sir,” Hernandez said at once, turning in the science station to face him. “At the distance they're maintaining the sensor scans would register only as part of the universal background radiation. But,” he hesitated, his brow furrowing in thought, “considering the lack of knowledge of the Orion ship's full capacity. I can't completely rule it out.”

“Have they made any change in their movements since you detected them?” Jim asked. His thoughts felt as if they'd hit warp speed, as plan after plan and possible danger after danger went through his mind. He reigned himself in, forcing himself to listen to his crew before he made his next decision.

Hernandez had just answered with a negative when the turbolift doors opened and McCoy walked in. 

“What's going on?” he demanded. “Aren't we in the middle of warp? Why are we going on alert?” His frown deepened at the sight of Jim in his civilian clothes. “And weren't you on a date with the kid?” Bones stopped and put his hands on his hips. “Please, tell me you didn't just abandon Spock!”

The grins, muffled laughter, glances the bridge crew exchanged with each other, made Jim glower at his friend even as his cheeks heated.

“Not the time, Dr. McCoy,” Jim sing-songed warningly. 

McCoy snorted, clearly not the least bit intimidated, “If the situation was really that dangerous, you'd have called for a red alert. Captain.”

It was the after-thought title which really made Jim want to pout. He sucked it up, and pointed at the bridge screen. “We finally have a confirmed sighting of the Orion ship. That isn't alarming enough for you, Bones? I could see about getting a couple Klingon warships in on the action if it's that important to you.”

McCoy ignored him, as he frowned at the screen display. “So that thing is really after us. Dammit, as if space isn't dangerous enough as it is.”

Jim braced himself for yet another rant on the various, unending dangers of space travel which would bring his count up to... Jesus, it would break triple digits soon.

But Bones surprised him.

“I want you down in Medical in less ten minutes,” McCoy said sternly.

“What? Why?” Jim asked warily. His neck twinged with phantom pains. He was going to develop a full-blown phobia to hyposprays before his one year anniversary of his captaincy at this rate

McCoy snorted, “A few of those transponders are ready.” He pointed at the image on the screen. “That, tells me we can't wait. I'm moving your timeslot up for your surgery.”

 _That was actually a good idea._ Jim admitted to himself. He sighed as if he was making a large concession, “Alright, Bones. I'll see you there.”

“And you're next after him, Acting First Officer,” McCoy said sternly to Uhura.

Uhura's eyes widened before she nodded briskly. “Yes, Dr. McCoy.”

“See, Jim that's how you take an order from your CMO. Without suspicion or whining,” McCoy said before he turned and left grumbling loudly about how pointy-eared hobgoblin first officers needed to learn that too and how he was getting sick and tired of threatening adult Starfleet officers into behaving. 

“You're supposed to resist,” Jim said earnestly to Uhura, as soon as the turbolift doors closed. “If he sees you give in too quickly, he'll know you're afraid and then--” Jim shook his head with mock-sadness. “-- it's all over.”

“Yes, Captain,” Uhura said, her voice so sarcastic that Jim couldn't help but grin. “I'll do my best to follow your extraordinarily brave example.”

Jim's grin widened at the chuckles from the bridge crew. The tension which had been building at the sight of the Orion ship on the screen settled down into lower levels. It didn't leave entirely, but there was a lot less stress on the body language of his officers.

Jim let the reprieve linger for several minutes before he got to his feet. He praised Hernandez for his good work, and told him to pass on his compliments to the Science department. Jim also asked for the names of every crew member who'd been involved to be sent along to his com-account. He wanted to personally mark their files with his commendation of their work. 

Before he left he ordered. “Uhura, you have the conn. Just keep me appraised of the situation, and inform all shift commanders, I want to know the moment the Orions make any kind of movement.”

“Aye, Captain,” Uhura agreed as she settled back into the captain's chair. 

Jim took a second to admire her poise. There was nothing evident in her voice, or her face which could have told anyone –except possibly a telepath – of her doubts and anxiety over taking over the role of First Officer. 

Jim gave himself a mental pat on the back for his excellent choice before leaving the turbolift and taking it down to the medical bay.


	27. Chapter 27

Medical Bay was a lot calmer than the last few times Jim had stopped by. The lateness of the hour meant that they were nearing the tail-end of Beta shift, essentially the beginning of the night on the ship, so there were a lot less patients seeking treatments and not as many doctors and nurses on duty, although there were no doubt plenty on-call should the need arise.

“I'm here. Where do you want me?” Jim asked as soon as he saw McCoy tapping away at a PADD.

McCoy pointed to one of the private bio-bed's surrounded by a privacy partition. “In there and strip.”

Jim blinked, then he shot Bones his best leer. “Bones... baby, you know I'm always _up_ to get naked with you,” he crooned, as he slid out of the blazer, dropping it on the deck. Jim moved closer so that he was less than a foot away from Bones. “You don't have to resist your attraction to me so much.”

The snickering from the medical staff within earshot inspired Jim to give Bones a smoldering look as he began unbuttoning the silk shirt. He was halfway down when he earned a wolf-whistle and a couple cat-calls to 'Take it all off!'. Bones, on the other hand, turned completely pink even as he glowered at Jim. 

“Oh, for the love of God! Just get in there will you,” said McCoy, exasperated, shoving Jim towards the private bio-bed. “And get on your stomach,” he added. Jim could see when it hit him what his words were implying because his cheeks turned an amazing cherry red. McCoy spun on his heel and pointed his forefinger at the peanut gallery. “Not a word out of you lot, or you'll be inventorying the medical storerooms all night!”

The medical staff instantly went back to doing work, or at least to looking like they were working, to escape Bones' ire. Yet Jim could see more than one person trying to smother a grin.

Jim waited until Bones looked back at him before he batted his eyelashes. He walked backwards into the private bio-bed, crooking his finger at his best friend who glared back. As soon as he was safely hidden by the privacy partition, Jim dropped his pants and underwear, tossing both on the side-shelving area with some medical instruments before jumping onto the bio-bed. 

About a minute later, McCoy stormed in. “Dammit, Jim! I need to be in charge of those people,” he grumbled, as he hit Jim quickly with a hypospray on the his left ass cheek. “If I start hearing rumors about me sleeping with you, I'm telling everyone you're a terrible lay.”

“Ow,” Jim winced and rubbed at the sore spot. “And ouch, that would almost hurt my feelings, Bones, but I don't think anyone would believe you.”

McCoy ignored him and said, “The local anesthesia should start working in a couple of seconds. You'll feel a pins and needles sensation then the area will go numb.”

Jim was already feeling the pins and needles. It made him wary. “You checked that I'm not allergic to that stuff, right?”

“You forget to check one time,” Bones muttered to himself, rolling his eyes. “And they never let you forget.”

“My tongue went numb, Bones! My tongue!” Jim said, as he crossed his arms and rested his chin on his forearms. “Do you have any idea of how many people would've mourned if I hadn't gotten my tongue's dexterity back?”

“Oh, god, never give me any details!” McCoy groaned in disgust. “Did you feel that?”

“Feel what?”

“Good, I'm going to start now. Don't move.” 

Jim heard the hum of the laser scalpel working for several minutes as Bones worked. In turn, Jim focused his mind on what he needed to do now that he had confirmation of the Orions following them. He'll have to pass on the information on to Pike, although Starfleet Command would be getting the information, the admiral would want a personal update. Jim also had to meet with Cupcake, soon as Bones released him, and again tomorrow, to get the latest – 

“By the way, how'd your the date with the kid go?” McCoy asked absently breaking into Jim's thoughts, as the laser scalpel noises stopped.

“It went good,” Jim said quietly. “Really good. Thank you, for the dinner. It was pretty awesome.”

“You're welcome,” McCoy chuckled. “Rand deserves most of the credit.” 

Jim wasn't surprised. 

“You know, if she wasn't so loyal to you I'd steal her away in a heartbeat. I could use her special brand of administrative skills.”

Jim was so startled by his friend's words that he tried to turn, only to have McCoy swear at him and push him back down with a firm hand between his shoulder blades.

“Dammit, Jim. What'd I say about moving? Do you want me permanently scar your ass?”

“Don't steal my yeoman, Bones,” Jim said, taken aback by the revelation of Rand's regard and also, well... delighted. Janice Rand was pretty hard to read and Jim had never been a hundred percent certain if she actually liked him considering she _never_ softened in his presence... at least, not until recently but that was mostly Spock's influence. So Jim was rather touched that Rand apparently did like him after all. Jim smiled into his forearms before he scolded his best friend, “You already have enough scary people on your staff, you don't need Rand.”

All the doctors and nurses could get vicious with those hypos. They were perfectly nice people off-duty but give them a patient who was being stubborn about getting treatment... Jim suppressed a shudder, and mourned over the fact that Bones' brand of medical care was apparently contagious and the Medical personnel were already infected. It was probably irreversible now. All he could do was try to keep patient zero as far away from other starships as he could. Yeah, that the best thing for the rest of Starfleet for Jim to keep Bones with him. 

It was a sacrifice he was prepared to nobly accept.

McCoy harrumphed. Then the sound of a tissue regenerator surged on. “So... how old was Spock by the time you left?”

“I didn't ask,” Jim admitted, resisting the urge to squirm.

For a long moment, Jim didn't hear anything from Bones, making him turn his head to look at him without moving his lower half.

McCoy was staring at him in puzzlement. “Jim... wasn't the point of the date in the first place to set out to make Spock old enough so you won't have to ship him off?” His brows furrowed and Jim could practically see the metaphorical wheels spinning in his head. He lowered the regenerator as his eyes widened. “Jim... you're not... I mean, I know the kid has a crush... do you _return_ those feelings?” McCoy's lips twitched, but he managed to hold in his laughter but it rang in his voice as clearly as if he had burst out into a belly laugh.

Jim groaned and buried his face back into his arms. “Bones, come on.”

“Don't bother denying you find Spock attractive. Everyone on the ship already knows that.”

Instantly, Jim made a noise of protest. “Not everyone!” he denied at once. Not the entire ship, the crew complement was 1,100 people. Surely, he wasn't that transparent!

“Everyone,” McCoy said ruthlessly. “But I didn't really think much of it. You'd find a tree attractive.”

“Well, yeah,” Jim admitted easily, “did you see the report from the Potemkin about the people of Godrum 5? They descended from plants and still have vestigial leaves. _Everywhere._ ”

That earned him a hard poke to the back of his head. “You can try changing the subject but I know you too well, Jim.”

Jim squirmed only to get another vicious poke and a hissed order to stay still. Ten seconds later, Bones told Jim he was done and then tossed Jim's shirt and pants onto his head.

McCoy waited until Jim was slid back into the denim jeans before he said, “You're taking this courting seriously, aren't you?”

Jim grimaced, his fingers not pausing as he did up the shirt. “Courting? Really, Bones? This isn't the 20th century. It's dating.”

“Which is just another word for the same damned thing, and you know it,” said Bones. He shook his head in disbelief. “And I didn't hear you deny it.” His expression became a mix of worry and exasperation. “Jim, are you sure that's the smart thing to do?”

“It was your idea.”

“Yeah, but that was before I learned that the kid's gigantic crush on you is apparently mutual.”

“It's not... I mean...” Jim rubbed at the back of his neck. “Sure he's got a crush on me _now_ but that's because Spock doesn't have all his memories of me back.” Jim shrugged as casually as he could. “I didn't exactly make the best first impression on the man. I don't think he feels the same at least he's never indicated anything. Hell, I didn't even know he and Uhura had broken things off, remember?”

Bones' expression was sympathetic throughout Jim's explanation but he grimaced in irritation at the last sentence. He raised a hand to Jim's shoulder to give it a squeeze of support. “Aw, Jim... well, at least you can trust that Spock likes you. He willingly got back on the Enterprise, even knowing you'd be in command and he hasn't mutinied even after all these months!”

Jim snorted and said dryly, “Thanks.”

“Who's to say what goes on in the Vulcan head of his. Considering how the kid's acting with you? I say you got something of a shot.” McCoy squeezed Jim's shoulder again.

For a minute, Jim silently appreciated the gesture and his best friend's words as he leaned into his touch. Bones really was the best friend any person could ask for. Jim still wasn't certain how he'd lucked out in meeting the man.

Then McCoy broke the moment by snickering as he dropped his hand away. His tone was disbelieving as he shook his head and said, “You may _finally_ be growing up, kid. Who would've thought you'd actually develop honest-to-god adult feelings for that pointy-eared bastard that weren't about tumbling him into bed?”

“Well, not _only,_ ” Jim drawled out.

McCoy snorted.

Jim eyed him warily. “I don't suppose you'd listen to me if I ordered you to forget I said anything?”

“Are you kidding me? After that little scene in my med-bay? You're going to be damned lucky if I let it go before you turn sixty.”

Bones' amused chortle spooked Jim. It had a disturbing touch of evil mad scientist laughter, or mad _doctor_ to be more accurate. Jim suppressed a shudder and slipped off the bio-bed to headed out the door before Bones got it into his head to start his teasing. Jim turned his impulse to run into a swagger, winking saucily at the medical staff until he was out of the Medical bay before Bones came up with something else to mock him about.

*-*-*-*  
As soon as he finished his meeting with his Chief of Security, Jim double-checked Spock's location and discovered that the teen had returned to his quarters.

For a brief moment Jim hesitated to join him, wondering about dating protocol and whether it was normal to spend the night sleeping in your date's room after said first date before he snorted at himself. He didn't really care about normal, or dating rules, in all honesty. He only cared about what Spock thought and whether or not Jim was pushing his boundaries.

Okay, and now Jim really wished he had more knowledge of how Vulcans approached courting (ah, hell now Bones had him calling it that). _Or whatever came close,_ Jim thought, remembering that Spock's betrothal at age seven. 

And then there was the fact that Jim could no longer put off that conversation that he knew he had to have with Spock. With the visual confirmation that they were being stalked by the Orions, Jim knew that the nebulous danger that they had posed had become all too real. Jim wouldn't be able to spare time to spend with him over the next couple of days, which made the chances of Spock returning to his full adult age before they got to the starbase very unlikely. Spock only seemed to get the largest age jumps from spending time with him and Jim's captain duties were a prioritized over anything else.

It was time that Spock learned of Jim's plans once they arrived at Starbase 42. He and Rand were going to be left behind so it wouldn't come as such a nasty surprise. Jim had already given Rand her orders, which she'd accepted with her usual aplomb.

When Jim entered he found the teenager sitting on a meditation mat, his eyes closed and his spine straight. Not knowing how much longer Spock would be meditating, Jim got ready for bed. It was getting pretty late and he had Alpha Shift bright and early. And yeah, he could run on only a handful of hours of sleep but there was reason to. It was better he stayed at his peak.

By the time he was done with his nightly hygiene routine, Spock was out of his meditation trance. He'd put away the mat and was at the com-unit, scanning through what looked like Astrometrics data on the convoluted nature of space-time found in trinary star system, nearing a black hole.

Spock was probably looking at it for fun.

“Jim,” Spock said, turning toward him. 

“Hey, Spock,” Jim said, finishing toweling his hair dry. He blinked as he realized that Spock wasn't wearing sleeping clothes but rather, less formal versions of the Vulcan attire he'd worn earlier. He must have changed while Jim had taken over the bathroom. “Are you going somewhere?”

“With the standby alert in effect, I will best be able to contribute to the function of the ship by providing my assistance in the Science Department,” Spock said calmly. “As I also do not require as much sleep as a human and as I do not yet need to enter a sleeping cycle, I planned on beginning at once.”

“Ah, okay, um...” Jim slung the towel over his shoulder and sat on the corner of one of the beds so that he could face him. “There's something you need to know.” It took only a few minutes to bring Spock up to speed about the confirmed sighting of the Orions, their increase to Warp 3 and how once they arrived at the starbase, Jim was ordering Spock to stay.

If Spock had been human, Jim would've been expecting a temper-tantrum. Or at least a raised voice and an argument. Hell, even with a Vulcan Jim thought he'd get them to refuse to acknowledge the logic of his decision. Spock's reaction was well... Spockian.

“Your logic is sound,” Spock said calmly, nothing in his body-language showing the stubborn refusal that Jim saw burning in his dark eyes. The immovable object could learn a thing or too. “Yet it is also premature.”

“Oh? Okay, lay it on me.” Jim crossed his arms and tilted his head.

Spock straightened even further which Jim hadn't known was possible considering you could already use his back as a ruler. “There is still 67.2 hours left until the Enterprise arrives at its destination and while I am technically at the current age of a minor by Federation law, in the same period of time my age has increased by a significant degree. It is more than likely that I will be have developed to the age of majority as I am already 16 years, 1 month, 4 days and 2.33 hours old.”

And while Jim could see where Spock was going, the knowledge that he was barely sixteen actually fueled Jim's decision. He'd taken Spock on a date. They'd had a great time, or at least that was the impression he'd gotten, and Spock had only gained four months in a time jump. Four months.

 _It is getting harder to make him happy now that he'd older,_ Jim thought, remembering Bones' theory about Vulcan training. But... there was still a chance. He admitted, “Yeah, that's logical. The point may be moot by then but I wanted you to know the plan. Because it isn't just that you're a minor, but you're also a civilian. You don't remember joining Starfleet and until you do remember, I have no right to expect you to stand by us as we go into danger.”

“Even if that is exactly where I wish to be?” Spock asked, his voice lower and the stubbornness softening.

Probably realizing that it wasn't just his youth that was driving Jim's decision, but also the oaths Jim had sworn, making it _his_ duty as a Starfleet officer to protect all civilians to the limits of his abilities. To protect Spock. Also, it would be a load off his mind to have Spock safe. Although if Jim had had his first officer back it would be a different story (a fully trained Spock could take care of himself), but that wasn't what Spock had to hear now. “Yeah, even then.”

Spock looked away. Jim was silently grateful that he'd seen Spock grow up over the last week, because otherwise he wouldn't have been able to see the slight tightness at the corners of his mouth, although he wasn't quiet sure if it was unhappiness or anger or a mix of both. Still, it drove Jim to lean forward and take Spock's hands into his own. Spock's hands stiffened before he curled his fingers around Jim's wrists, so tightly that only a little more pressure and his fingertips would leave bruises.

“You won't be left behind. We'd come back for you, Spock,” Jim promised, his voice low. “None of us want you gone but for now this is my decision and my orders.”

Spock released Jim slowly before he said stiffly, “As you wish, Jim.” Then stood and strode out of the room without glancing back.

Jim rubbed his face. “Aw crap,” he muttered. Spock's last words rung in his ears reminding him of the first time he heard him say it. And Jim wondered if Spock would've argued his decision if it had come from anyone else. “Well, that was a great way to end the day.” And the evening of their first date too. 

_Goddammit, I really do suck at relationships._

Jim slept awfully that night, tossing and turning for hours – thinking about the Orions, Spock and every little detail he had to look into in the morning – until the soft sounds of Spock returning to his quarters let him sink into real sleep.


End file.
